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THE  IRISH 

ECCLESIASTICAL  RECOED 

^  iHantljlg  K0urttal, 

UNDER    EPISCOPAL    SANCTION. 


THIRD  SERIES. 

VOLUME    XII.— 1891 


Ut  Christiani  ita  et  Romani  sitis." 

As  you  are  children  of  Christ,  so  be  you  children  of  Rome." 

Ex  Dictis  S,  Patricii,  Book  of  Armagh^  fol.  9. 


DUBLIN : 
BROWNE     &     NOLAN,     NASSAU-STREET. 

1891. 

ALL  BIGHTS  BE8EBVED. 


\-'.  „ 


^LxLlUUill 


K  05  1  w  -i  A 


GTCU 


Nihil  Ohstat. 


GiRALDUS  MOLLOr,  S.T.D., 

CENSOR  DEP. 


Imprrmate. 


Ij(  GULIELMUS, 

Archiep.  Dublin. j  Hiherniae  Primas. 


FEB"  20  1954 


BROWKB  «fe  NOLAN,  STEAM  PRINTERS    DUBLIN. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


American  Literature.     By  Rev.  T,  Lee  .  .  .  .1121 

An  Early  English  Prymer.     By  Orby  Shipley,  m.a.  .  .  .       786 

Anecdota  Oxoniensia.     By  Rev.  B,  MacCarthy,  d.d.  .  .       147 

"  Anima  Deo  Unita."     By  Rev.  J.  S.  Vaughan  .  .  .     1057 

Apostleship  of  Prayer,  The  :  its  Origin,  Progress,  and  Organization. 
By  Rev.  J.  CuUen,  s.j.  .....        928,  1003 

Aristotle  and  Catholic  Philosophy.     By  Rev.  T.  E.  Judge    .  .      442 

Campion's,  The  Blessed  Edmund,  "  History  of  Ireland  "  and  its 

Critics.     By  Rev.  Edmund  Hogan,  S.J.         .  .  .  629,  725 

Catholic  Church,  The,  the  Patroness  of  Art.    By  Rev.  J.  J.  Clancy        823 
Chapter,  A,  towards  a  Life  of  the  late  Rev:  Joseph  MuUooly,  o.p. 

By  C.  G.  Doran 1108 

Churches  in  the  East.     By  Rev.  J.  L.  Lynch,  o.s.f.    .  .  617,  735 

Conversion  of  England,  The.    By  Rev.  Joseph  Tynan,  d.d.  .  .      642 

Correspondence  :— 

Fast  Days  .  .  .  .  •.  .  .        81 

History  of  the  Ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass  .  .  .      857 

Lehmkulil's  "  Theologia  Moralis,"  Appendix  to  .  .       180 

Life  of   John   MacHale.     By   Right    Rev.   Bernard  O'Reilly 

(A  Protest)       .......      284 

Life  of   John   MacHale.     By   Right   Rev.   Bernard   O'Reilly 

(A  Rejoinder)  ■.  .  .  .  .  .368 

O'Curry  MSS.,  The .80 

Priests  and  Politics  .  .  .  .  .  .       179 

Stowe  Missal,  The  .  .  .  .  .  .370 

Temperance  in  Country  Parts     .  •.  .  .  .         82 

The  Prymer  .  .  ...  .  .     1049 

The  text  "  The  just  man  falls  seven  times  a  day  "  .  .     1136 

Dante's  Ideal  of  Church  and  Empire.     By  Rev.  J.  F.  Hogan  .      498 

Documents  : — 

Absolution  of  Cases  and  Censures  Reserved  to  the  Holy  See  .      860 
Association    for    the    Propagation  of   the  Faith.     Privileges 

Granted  to  Helpers       .  .  .  .  .  .    1052 

Blessed  Sacrament  in  Outlying  Churches,  The  Keeping  of  the      565 
Calendar,    Universal,    Addition     to    the,    of    the  Feasts    of 
SS.  John  Damascene,  &c.  •       •  •  •  •  91 


iv  Contents. 

PAGB 

Documents — continued. 

Exorcismus  in  Satanam  et  Angelos  Apostaticos  iussu  Leonis 

XIII.  P.  M.  editus  88 

Holy  Family,  Letter  of  His  Holiness  Leo  XIII.,  commending 

Devotion  to       .  .  .  .  .  .  •       181 

Holy  Family,  Form  of  Consecration  to  the        .  .  .       183 

Holy  Family,  Indulgenced    Prayer  to  be  said  Daily  before  a 

Picture  of  the  .  .  .  .  •  .188 

Holy  Oils  in  the  Priest's  House,  The  Keeping  of  the    .  .       565 

Leo  XIII.,  Letter  of  His  Holiness,  commending  Devotion  to 

the  Holy  Family  ......       181 

Leo  XIII.,  Encyclical  letter  of  His  Holiness,  "  De  Conditione 

Opificum  " 558,  654,  750 

Leo  XIII.,  Letter  of  His  Holiness,  on  the  Tercentenary  of 

St.  Aloysius       .......       374 

Lso  XIII.,  Letter  of  His  Holiness,   regarding  the  Manifesta- 
tion of  Conscience       ......       463 

Leo  XIII.,  Letter  of  His  Holiness,  on  the  Extension  and 

Improvenient  of  the  Vatican  Observatory      .  .  .     1137 

Manifestation  of  Conscience,  Letter  of  His  Holiness  Leo  XIII. 

regarding  .......      463 

Office  of  the  Sacred  Heart,  Addition  to  the  6th  Lesson  of  the        91 
Sacred  Heart,  Second  Vespers  on  the  Eve  of  the  Feast  of  the        949 
Sacred  Heart,  The  Colour  of  the  Vestments  for  the  Feast  of  the      949 
St.  Aloysius,  Letter  of  His  Holiness  Leo  XIII.  on  the  Ter- 
centenary of      .  .  ,  .  .  .  .      374 

Sanctuaries    of  the  Holy  Land,   Annual  Collection  for  the 
Protection  of  the         .  .  .  .  .  .      377 

Should  a  Priest  at  the  Altar  genuflect  during  the  Elevation  at 

another  Altar  ?  ......       950 

Shnplified  Doublo   concurring  with  Privileged  Sunday — The 

Order  of  Commemorations      .....      949 

Stations  of  the  Cross,  Erection  of  the    .  .  .  .184 

Zuchetto  at  a  Ceremony,  The  Use  of  the  .  .  .564 

Every-day  Life  of  a  Country  Parish  Priest  in  Germany,  The.     By 

Rev.  P.  B.  Scannell  ......      435 

From  Forest  to  Field.     By  Rev.  H.  W.  Cleary         .  .  .881 

Goethe,  The  Spirit  and  Influence  of.     By  Rev.  J.  F.  Hogan  .      289 

History  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  Ireland.  By  Rev.  B.  MacCarthy,  d.d,     43 
History  of  the  Ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass.     By  Rev.  R.  0.  Kennedy 

594, 710 
Humouring  the  Vatican  in  the  Sixteenth  Century.     By  Rev.  Joseph 

Tynan,  d.d.  ........     1011 

Illustrations  of  the  Passion  from  Literature  and  the  Drama.     By 

Orby  Shipley,  m.a.   .......      899 

Iphigenia,  The  Sacrifice  of.   By  Rev.  J.  F.  Hogan  ,  .     1070 


Contents.  v 


PAGE 


Ireland,  History  of  the  Catholic  Church  in.  By,  Kev.  B.  MacCarthy,  d.d.    43 
Irish  Abbey  at  Ypres,  The.     By  E.  W.  Beck,  Esq.    .  .  108,  405,  810 

Irish  Church,  Professor  Stokes  on  the  Early.,  By  Rev.  J.  Murphy,  C.C.     318 
Irish  Language,  Why  and  How  the,  is  to    be  Preserved.     By  J. 

McNeill 1099 

Irish  Parliaments.     By  Very  Rev.  Canon  O'Hanlon,  m.r.i.a.  116,  212 

Leakage  from  the   Catholic    Church  in  Great  Britain,  The.     By 

Rev.  John  Curry,  p.p.  ......       914 

Leo  XIII.  and  the  Social  Problem.     By  A.  Hinsley,  b.a.      .         961, 1086 
Letters  and  Correspondence  of  John  Henry  Newman.     By  Cecil 

Clayton         .  .  .  .  .  .  .  577,693 

Liturgical  Questions  : — 

Blessed  Sacrament,  The  Votive  Office  of  the      .  .  .      174 

Candles  on  the  Altar,  Order  of  Lighting  and  Extinguishing  the     1134 
Chasubles,  folded.  The  use  of     .  .  .  .  .554 

Confraternities,  Various,  and   Conditions  to  be  Observed  in 

Erecting  them  ......         67 

Consecratione  Ecclesise  cum  Altari,  De  ...      849 

Convent  Chapels,  What  Mass  is  to  be  said  in      .  .  .556 

Days,  The,   on   which    Solemn    Requiem    Mass    "Praesente 

Cadavere "  is  forbidden  .  .  .  .  .1134 

Divine  Office,  Intentions  for  the.     The  Pope's  Debt     .  .        77 

Dolour  Beads        .......      366 

Ecclesiastical  Calendar,  The        .  .  .  .      1033,  1128 

Holy  Week,  during  the  "  Triduum  "  of  The  Blessed  Sacrament 
in  Convent  Chapels      .    ,         .  .  .  .  .     1046 

Hymns  in  the  Vernacular  during  Mass    ....      367 

"Laus  Tibi  Christi,"  Should  the,  be  Sung  by  the  Choir  in  a 

Solemn  Mass  ......     1134 

Mass.     May  the  Choir  Sing  during  the  Consecration  ?   .  .       177 

Mass,  Questions  regarding  the  Prayers  to  be  said  after  .      170 

Mass,  Requiem,  The  first  Prayer  in  a      .  .  ,  .      362 

Mass,  Requiem,  within  the  Octave  of  All  Saints  .  .      176 

Passion,  Should  the,  be  Sung  by  Deacons  V         ,  .  .      554 

Plenary  Indulgence,  The  Use  of  a  Form  for  imparting  a  .     1046 

Prayer,  The,  to  be  said  in  Blessing  the  Grave     .  .  .     1134 

"  Quarant'  Ore,"  The,  or  Forty  Hours'  Adoration'        .  .      933 

Scapular,  The  Brown,  Questions  regarding         .  .  ,177 

Living  Rosary  in  Detail,  The.     By  Rev.  T.  M.  Byrne,  o.p.  .  134,  261,  333 

Living  Rosary  in  Missionary  Countries,  The.     By  Rev.  D.  O'Loan  .      269 

Lough  Derg  Pilgrimage,  The.     By  Very  Rev.  J.  Fahey,  p.p.,  v.g.    .      973 

"  Madonna,"  The,  in  the  National  Gallery.     By  Rev.  A.  Dooley      .        58 

Mass,  History  of  the  Ceremonial  of  Holy.    By  Rev.  R.  O.  Kennedy      594 

Mission  of  Our  Lady  of  the  Rosary.    By  Rev.  John  Nolan,  C.C.      .      776 

MuUooly,  Rev.  Joseph,  o.p.,  the  late,  A  Chapter  towards  a  Life 

of.    By  C.  G.  Doran 1108 


Wi  Contents. 

^''     *  PAGK 

Musical  Temperament.     By  Rev.  F.  Lennon  .  .  .      224 

Newman,  J ohd  Henry,  Letters  and  Correspondence  of.     By  Cecil 

Clayton         .  .  .  .  .  .  .  677,  693 

Notices  of  Books: — 

Abridged  Bibla  History— The  Child's  Bible  History,  114-1  ; 
A  Christian  Apology,  466,  763^;  A  Reminiscence  of  the  Passion  Play 
at  Ober-Ammergau  in  1890,  570;  A  String  of  Pearls,  192  ;  Aids  to 
Correct  and  Effective  Elocution,  with  Selected  Readings  and  Recita- 
tions, 382  ;  An  Introduction  to  the  Study  of  the  Irish  Language,  568; 
Archaeologiae  jBiblicae  Compendium,  864  ;  Art  of  Profiting  by  our 
Faults,  479  ;  Ascetical  Works  of  St.  Alpbonsus,  958;  Birthday  Book 
of  the  Sacred  Heart,  575 ;  Blessed  Sacrament  and  the  Church  of  St. 

^-  Martin  at  Liege,  The,  571 ;  Book  of  the  Professed,  479 ;  Cardinal 
Newman's  Works,  958 ;  Cassells  New  German  Dictionary,  190 ; 
Catholic  Young  of  the  Present  Day,  480;  Catholic  Truth  Society's 
Publications,  1144  ;  Considerationes  pro  Reformatione  Vitae  in 
usum  Sacerdotum,  576  ;  Crown  of  Thorns,  or  the  Little 
Breviary  of  the  -Holy  Face,  480  ;  Cursus  Vitae  Spiritualis,  477  ;  De 
Cisterciensium  Hibernorum  viris  Illustiibus,  759 ;  De  Insignibus 
Episcoporum  Commentaria,  478;  Explanatio  Critica  Editionis 
Breviarii  Romani  quae,  a  Sacra  Congregatione  uti  Typica  Declarata 
est,  863 ;  Ecclesiastical  History  of  Newfoundland,  470  ;  Eucharistic 
Jewels,  192;  Fate  of  the  -Children  of  Tuireann,  475;  First 
Communicant's  Manual, 479  ;  German  Dictionary,  Cassell's  New,  190 ; 
Golden  Sands,  479  ;  Harp  of  Jesus,  a  Prayer- book  in  Verse,  384  ; 
History  of  the  Sufferings  of  Eighteen- Carthusians  in  England,  379; 
Holy  Croes  Abbey,  and -the  Cistercian  Ord-or  in  Ireland,  576;  Holy 
Face  of  Jesus,  575  ;  Holy  Lives :  1  The  Leper  Queen ;  The  Blessed 

■  Ones  of  1888,  191 ;  How  to  Get  On,  766;  Idols,  or  the  Secret  of  the 
Rue  Chausse  d'Antin,  188;  1otn]AAin1i  tnic  SneA-ogui^A  Aguj'  rmc  RiajIa, 
\.&iy  A11    AcAi]\    eoJAii    0'5)£VAirinA.       CeAc  An    cto-oA,   Ac-CtiAC,    569  ; 

'.-  ■'•  Is.  One  Religion  as  Good  as  Another  ?  575 ;  John  MacHale, 
Archbishop  of  Tuam :  his  Life,  Times  and  Correspondence,  93 ; 
Life  and.  Labours  of  St.  Thomas  of  Aquin,  571  ;  Life  and 
Scenery    in    Missouri,   764;    Life    and    Writings    of    Sir    Thomas 

'    .   More,  668  ;  Life  of  Father  John  Curtis,  of  the  Society  of  Jesus,  761 ; 

•  •  Life  of  Blessed  John  Fisher,  668  ;  Life  of  St.  Aloysius  Gonzaga,  768 ; 
Life  of  St.  Aloysius  Gonzaga,  s.J.,  762  ;  Life  of  St.  John  the  Baptist, 
573  ;  Life  of  St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  571 ;  Little  Gems  from  Thomas  a 
Kempis,  479;  Little  Nell:  a  Sketch,  384;  Mary  in  the  Epistles; 
or.  the  Implicit  Teaching  of  the  Apostles  concerning  the  Blessed 
Virgin,  contained  m  their  Writings,  476  ;  Maxims  of  St.  Philip 
Neri,  479;  Mdlle.  Louise  de  Marillac,  864;  Ministry  of  the  AVord, 
5616;  On  the  Holy  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass,  191;  One  and  Thu-ty 
Days  with  Blessed    Margaret   Mary,   96;    Our  Lady's  Garden  of 

....  Roses,  1143;  Perfection  of  Man  by  Charity,  382 ;   Philosophy  of 


OmtmH:  Tit 

Notices  of  Books — continued. 

the  Mazdayasnian  Keligion   under  the  Sassanids,  471 ;  Pieces  ante 
et   post  ^Missam,  862 ;  Plain  Sermons  on   the  Fundamental  Truths 
of  the  Catholic  Church,   472;   Poet's  Purgatory,   The,  and   Other 
Poems,  671  ;    Poems    of    the    Past,    ib. ;    Poems    and    Ballads    of 
Young   Ireland,  ib. ;    Pontificale   Romanum  Summorum   Pontificum 
Jussu    Editum   a   Benedicto    XIV.    et    Leone    XIII.    Pont.    Max 
Recognitum  et   Castigatum,  862 ;    Principles  of  Anthropology  and 
Biology,  286  ;  Rational  Religion,  190  ;  Revelations  of  the  Sacred  Heart 
to  Blessed  Margaret  Mary,  287  ;  Rights  of  Our  Little  Ones,  or  First 
Principles  on  Education,  480 ;  Rituale  Romanum,  478  ;  Roman  Missal, 
The,  and  Supplement  Adapted  to  the  Use  of  the  Laity,  114-3  ;  Short 
Instruction  in  the  Art  of  Singing  Plain-Chant,  1141 ;  St.  Anastatia^ 
Virgin  and  Martyr,  381 ;  St.  Basil's  Hymn  Book,  St.  Basil's  Hymnal,  96 ; 
'  -     St.  Ignatius  Loyola  and  the  Early  Jesuits,  952  ;  Scott's  "  Rokeby,"  960 ; 
'^       Selected  Sermons,  570;  Special  Devotion  to  the  Holy  G-host,  670  ; 
Sennon  delivered  on  the  Occasion  of  the  Consecration  of  Maynooth 
College  Church, '960;  Sermon*  for  Sundays  and  Festivals,   1056; 
Short  Sermons  on  the  Gospels,  288 ;  Summa  Apologetica  De  Ecclesia 
Catholica  ad  Mentem  and  Thomae  Aquinatis,  469  ;  The  Blind  Apostle 
and  Heroine  of  Charity,  767  ;  The  Christian  Virgin,  in  her  Family  and 
in  .the  World  :  he*  Virtues  and  her  Mission  at  the  present  time,  764 ; 
-       The  Garden  of  Divine  Love,  191  ;  Theologia  Moralis  (Editio  Sexta), 
478;  Theologia  Moralis  per  Modum  Conferentiarum,  186;  Theologia 
Moralis  per  Modum  Conferentiarum,  762 ;  Thesaurus  Sacerdotum,478 ; 
The   Seven    Dolours,  191;  The  Sodality  Manual,  i6.;    Traetatus  de 
Actibus  Humanis,  959 ;  Triumphalia  Chronologica  Monasterii  Sanctae 
Crucis  in  Hibernia,  759  ;  The  Ven.  Jean  Baptiste  Vianney,  Cure  d'Ars, 
765;  Twelve  Virtues  of  a  Good  Teacher,  480 ;  Two  Spiritual  Retreats 
for   Sisters,    1056;     Valentine  .Riant,.  669;   Venerable   Sir   Adrian 
Fortescue,  The  Martyr,  383  ;  Virgin  Mother  of  Good  Counsel,  479 ; 
Visible  and  Invisible  Worlds,  669  ;  Whither  Goest  Thou?  or,  Was 
Father  Mathew  Right?  1053.  paqk 

Office  of  Reason  in  Theology,  The.     By  Rev.  W.  H.  Kent,  o.s.c.     .      385 
Origin  of  Plain-Chant,  The.     By  Rev.  F.  E.  Gilliat  Smith  .  .       607 

Oxford  Movement,  The.    Twelve  Years,  1833-1845,    By  Evelyn 

Mordaunt     ........      984 

Philosophy,  Aristotle  and  Catholic.    By  Rev.  T.  E.  Judge  .  ,      442 

Priests  and  Politics.    By  Rev.  J.  S.  Vaughan  (See  also  Correspond- 
ence) ........        29 

Professor  Stokes  on  the  Early  Irish  Church.  By  Rev.  J.  Murphy,  c.c.      318 
Renan  and  the  Kings  of  Israel.    By  Rev.  J.  A.  Howlett,  o.s.b.        .      193 
St.  Aidan,  or  Maidoc,  Bishop  of  Ferns.  By  Rev.  J.  A.  Howlett,  o.s.b.      673 
St.  Patrick,  Thoughts  about :  St.  Patrick  and  St.  Paul.      By  Rev. 

James  Halpin  .......      413 

Sen  (Old)  Patrick,  Who  Was  He  ?  By  Rev.  Sylvester  Malone,  m.r.i.a.      800 


7111 


Contents. 


PAGE 

481 


Some  Causes  of  Anglican  Secession.    By  Orby  Shipley,  m.a. 
Some  Recollections  of   Fr.  Peter  Kenney,  s.J.     By  the  late  Very 

Key.  P.  Murray,  d.d.  .  .  .  .  .  .794 

Sources  of  Theology,  The.     By  Rev.  W.  H.  Kent,  o.s.c.      .  .  1 

Stowe  Missal,  The.    By  Most  Rev.  Dr.  Healy  ...        97 

Study  of  the  Human  Mind,  The.     By  Rev.  J.  Coyle  .  .        49 

Temperance  Movement,  The  Catholic.  By  Rev.  M.  Kelly,  m.ss.    15, 158, 242 
The  Blessed  Edmund  Campion's  "History  of  Ireland"   and  its 

Critics.     By  Rev.  Edmund  Hogan,  s.J.       .  .  .  329,725 


The  Catholic  Church,  The  Patroness  of  Art.    By  Rev.  J.  J.  Clancy 

The   Privilege  of   Adrian  IV.  to  Henry  II.    By  Rev.  Sylvester 

Malone,  m.r.i.a.        ....... 

Theological  Questions  — 

Excommunication 

Fasting,  Questions  about 

Honoraria  for  Second  Mass 

Marriage  Question,  A       . 

Mass,  Honoraria  for  Second 

May  a  Priest  who  asks   another  to   say  Mass, 


823 


.  865 

.  352 

,  282 

.  359 
75,  338,  352,  451 

.  359 
for  which  a 


Honorarium  was  given,  retain  for  himself  a  part  of  the 
Honorarium?     .... 

Promise  of  Marriag 
Quasi-domicile 

Retired  Priests,  Jurisdiction  of    . 
Temperance  Pledge 
Theology,  The  Sources  of.    By  Rev.  W.  H.  Kent,  o.s.c. 
Thoughts  on  the  Nature  of  God.    By  Rev.  J.  S.  Vaughan 
Thoughts  on  the  Wisdom  of  God.    By  Rev.  J.  S.  Vaughan 
Ulick  De  Burgo,  First  Earl  of  Clanricarde.    By  Very  Rev.  J.  A 

Fahey,  v.G. 

Universal  Expectation  of  the   Virgin  and  the  Messias.    By  Rev 
Philip  Duffy,  C.C      ...... 

Walter  Scott's  Journal.    By  Cecil  Clayton    . 
What  Do  the  Irish  Sing  ?    By  Very  Rev.  A.  Canon  Ryan   . 
When  England  was  *'  Merrie  "  England.    By  Rev.  J.  S.  Vaughan 
Windthorst,  Dr. :  his  Life  and  Work.    By  Rev.  M.  O'Riordan 


1029 
352 
355 
352 
352 
1 
308 
815 

525 

769 
423 
717 
513 
535 


THE  IRISH 

ECCLESIASTICAL  RECORD. 


JULY,  1891. 


LETTEES  AND  COEEESPONDENCE  OF  JOHN 
HENEY  NEWMAN,  DUEING  HIS  LIFE  IN  THE 
ENGLISH  CHUECH.i 

ALTHOUGH  we  have  already  heard,  not  only  from  both 
friend  and  foe,  but  also  from  his  own  pen,  much 
concerning  Cardinal  Newman  and  his  life,  we  venture  to 
say  that  to  few  of  our  readers  have  these  topics  yet  become 
wearisome ;  and  we  believe  that  these  two  volumes  of  letters, 
written  whilst  he  was  still  an  Anglican,  will  be  welcome  read- 
ing to  our  co-religionists.  To  some  of  the  letters,  no  doubt,  it 
may  be  objected  that  they  are  of  mere  local  or  ephemeral 
interest.  Still,  even  here  it  would  be  difficult  to  decide  which 
letters  to  omit.  Many  of  no  apparent  importance,  and  which 
detract  from  the  continuous  flow  of  events,  and  distract  the 
mind  from  the  main  incidents  of  Newman's  life,  may  yet 
throw  a  side  light  on  an  obscure  incident  or  an  action  which 
has  been  misunderstood ;  and  for  every  word  or  line  which 
enables  us  more  fully  to  understand  one  who  was,  perhaps, 
the  most  fascinating  and  attractive  personality  of  the  age,  we 
feel  grateful.  Independently  of  his  writings,  of  his  preach- 
ing, and  of  his  high  position  in  the  Church,  Newman,  as  an 
individual,  has  attracted,  has  puzzled,  even  has  repelled, 
more  than  one  generation  of  his  fellow-countrymen ;  and  the" 
more  intimately  we  become  acquainted  with  him  as  a  man, 

1  Edited  by  Anne  Mozley.     2  Vols.     London  :  Longmans.     1891. 
VOL.  XII.  2  0 


578    Letters  and  Correspondence  of  John  Henry  Newman^ 

the  better  can  we  understand  how  it  comes  to  pass  that, 
whilst  viewed  differently  by  different  classes  of  men,  and  at 
different  periods  of  time,  nevertheless  to  all  he  has  been  an 
object  of  interest  or  of  curiosity. 

We  have  already  been  allowed  to  study,  with  all  the  light 
he  himself  could  throw  on  the  question,  the  commencement, 
the  development,  and  at  length  the  fulfilment  of  the  early 
feelings  and  experiences  which  caused  the  great  change 
which  in  middle  life  took  place  in  Newman's  position.  To 
that  change  it  is  owing  that  we  are  able  to  claim  as  our  own, 
England's  most  powerful  religious  thinker,  and  one  whose 
whole  person  commands  so  much  respect,  that  his  very  pre- 
sence amongst  us  was  sufficient,  with  many  minds,  to  dispel 
the  unreasonable  prejudice  with  which  the  Catholic  Church 
was  in  past  times  regarded.  The  Apologia,  however,  was 
concerned  entirely  with  ''  the  history  of  my  religious 
opinions ;"  and  although  it  may  be  difficult,  in  this  case, 
to  disassociate  the  man  from  his  opinions — so  thoroughly 
was  Newman's  religion  a  part  of  and  one  with  himself — still 
we  learn  much  from  these  letters  that  is  new,  and  therefore 
gladly  welcome  them  as  giving  us  a  clearer  knowledge  of 
Cardinal  Newman  from  his  boyhood  to  the  year  1845,  the 
date  when  the  Anglican  Communion  suffered  the  severest 
of  the  many  losses  it  has  had  to  deplore,  and  the  Church 
added  a  devoted  servant  to  her  ranks. 

From  the  opening  chapter  we  learn  Cardinal  Newman's 
opinion  that  a  more  thorough  knowledge  of  a  man  was  to  be 
obtained  by  the  study  of  his  letters  than  from  any  other 
source.  "Biographers  varnish,  they  assign  motives,  they 
conjecture  feelings,  they  interpret  Lord  Burleigh's  nods; 
but  contemporary  letters  are  facts,"  he  tells  us.  With  the 
exception  of  a  short  autobiographical  sketch, which,  beginning 
with  his  birth,  carries  us  no  further  than  1832,  these  volumes 
are  entirely  composed  of  letters,  and  the  short  editorial  links 
which  are  necessary  to  make  them  intelligible  to  the  reader. 
The  editor  is  fortunate  in  having  from  Cardinal  Newman's 
own  pen  a  certain  law  by  which  to  select  amongst  his  letters. 
Many  years  ago,  when  writing  to  a  friend  on  the  subject  of 
the  letters  in  Hurrell  Froude's  Bemains,  he  tells  us  that, 


during  his  life  in  the  English  Church.  579 

although  many  may  be  criticised  as  being  out  of  place, 
and  for  other  reasons,  yet  on  the  whole  they  present  "  a 
picture  of  a  mind."  By  this  aim — viz.,  to  bring  Cardinal 
Newman  before  us  as  a  whole — the  editor,  whilst  using  the 
letters  as  a  record  of  a  busy  life,  has  desired  to  be  guided.  We, 
therefore,  have  a  picture  of  Newman  in  every  relation — as  a 
son  and  a  brother,  as  a  friend  and  acquaintance,  as  a  pupil 
and  as  a  tutor ;  in  many  phases  of  character,  in  his  tempera- 
ment, in  his  impetuosity,  in  his  tenderness — in  fact,  in  all 
that  constitutes  his  distinct  and  marked  individuality. 

That  Cardinal  Newman  was  far  from  indifferent  to  the 
history  of  his  life,  which  was  to  take  the  place  of  a  regular 
biography,  is  manifest  from  the  care  with  which  he  selected 
both  the  letters  which  were  to  be  published  and  the  editor  to 
whose  care  they  were  to  be  confided.  Nothing  seems  to 
have  been  left  to  chance.  In  1884,  the  papers  were  placed  in 
Miss  Mozley's  hands,  and,  after  a  suitable  choice  had  been 
made,  they  were  returned  to  Cardinal  Newman  three  years 
later.  Although  since  that  time  other  and  important  addi- 
tions have  been  placed  at  the  editor's  disposal,  yet  these  also 
had  the  cardinal's  approval  as  forming  part  of  the  history  of 
his  life.  We  may,  therefore,  conclude  that  in  these  volumes 
we  possess  the  letters  which  he  himself  considered  charac- 
teristic of  the  writer,  and  which  gave  an  authentic  and  trust- 
worthy view  of  the  stirring  times  in  which  he  lived,  and  of  the 
events  which  he  played  so  great  a  part  in  producing. 

That  the  history  of  his  earlier  years  should  be  compiled 
and  annotated  by  a  Protestant,  was  Newman's  not  unnatural 
desire.  His  main  object  was,  that  a  trustworthy  history  of 
the  movement  with  which  in  early  life  he  was  connected, 
should  be  given  to  the  world;  and  this,  with  the  sincerest 
wish  to  do  his  best,  we  may  safely  assert,  no  born  Catholic 
would  have  been  able  to  compile.  We  beheve  no  Catholic 
could  place  himself  in  imagination  in  the  position  of  the 
Tractarian  leaders,  nor  could  one  easily  be  found  who  would 
be  able  to  sympathise  with  their  vain  effort  to  Catholicise  the 
Establishment,  or  with  the  hope  that  by  the  mere  and 
arbitrary  charge  of  individual  teaching,  the  Protestant 
religion  of  England  could  be  converted  into  an  integral 


580    Letters  a7id  Correspondence  of  John  Henry  Neioman, 

part  of  the  Catholic  Church.  History  written  in  an  un- 
sympathetic spirit,  is  rarely  vivid  history;  nor,  we  may  add, 
although  all  conscious  misrepresentation  be  avoided,  can  it 
be  a  strictly  truthful  one.  Essential  truthfulness  is  of  so 
subtle  a  nature  that  the  slightest  failure  in  grasping  the  true 
meaning  of  a  position  or  the  accuracy  of  a  view,  the  slight 
misunderstanding  of  a  word  or  a  phrase,  may  produce  so 
complete  a  misrepresentation,  that  absolute  mis-statement 
could  do  no  worse.  That  a  Catholic  should  be  able  clearly 
to  distinguish  between  what,  in  the  phraseology  of  those 
days,  was  respectively  styled  "Catholic"  and  ''Koman;" 
that  he  should  be  able  to  place  himself  in  the  position  of 
those  who,  whilst  wishing  to  be  Catholic,  yet  "  abominated  " 
Eome,  the  Pope,  and  all  his  works,  is  well-nigh  impossible. 
No  doubt  the  ideal  editor  of  Newman's  letters  would  have 
been  one  who,  whilst  sharing  his  early  errors,  shared  also 
his  later  awakening  to  the  truth.  But,  as  Miss  Mozley  truly 
observes,  Newman  outlived  nearly  all  his  contemporaries, 
and  we  have  now  to  pay  the  penalty  of  having  been  allowed 
to  keep  him  so  long  with  us,  by  having  to-day  no  one 
amongst  his  co-religionists,  who  whilst  realizing  the  futility 
of  Newman's  early  hopes,  yet  once  himself  was  enslaved  with 
the  like. 

In  the  volumes  before  us,  Newman's  Anglican  life  divides 
itself  naturally  into  two  portions,  of  very  unequal  length,  so 
far  as  years  are  concerned,  though  the  interest  of  the 
twelve  years  the  record  of  which  fills  the  second  volume, 
may  be  said  to  surpass  all  that  is  contained  in  the  thirty-two 
years  which  preceded  them.  In  the  first  volume  we  have 
the  story  of  his  school  and  university  life — this  last  both  as 
an  undergraduate  and  as  a  tutor  and  fellow  of  Oriel  College 
— together  with  a  graphic  account  of  his  travels  in  Italy, 
Greece,  and  Sicily,  and  of  the  fever  which  prostrated  him  in 
this  last-named  island.  From  his  recovery  from  this  illness 
he  dates  the  start  of  a  new  life.  On  his  return  to  England 
the  Tractarian  movement  commences,  and  the  second 
volume  is  concerned  mainly  with  this  phase  of  Oxford 
thought.  At  first  the  letters  are  joyous  and  triumphant 
in  character.     Then  they  sober  into  more  critical  tone,  and 


during  his  life  in  the  English  Church.  581 

the  disapproval  he  meets  with  in  high  quarters  leavens  all 
with  distrust.  Then,  later  on,  follow  sadness,  anxiety, 
and  anguish  of  mind,  as  he  slowly  realizes  that  he  has  been 
weaving  ropes  out  of  sand,  and  that  his  ideal  of  Catholicising 
the  English  Church  has  but  landed  him  in  the  necessity  of 
leaving  her  communion.  With  his  reception  into  the  Catholic 
Church,  the  present  editor's  task  concludes. 

Before  placing  Newman's  autobiographical  memoir  before 
us,  the  editor  has  printed  a  few  extracts  from  his  writings, 
which,  as  they  are  probably  the  remembrances  of  his 
own  early  experiences,  enable  us  to  gather  some  idea  of 
Newman's  mind  and  feelings  in  childhood.  From  his  first 
yea.rs  he  seems  to  have  exhibited  many  of  the  characteristics 
with  which  in  his  after-life  we  are  familiar.  Thus,  although 
in  later  years  thoroughly  chastened  by  self-control,  it  is  not 
difficult  to  recognise  the  strong  character  of  the  man  in  the 
wilful  child,  who,  in  answer  to  his  mother's  remark  after  an 
infantine  struggle  for  mastery,  "  You  see,  John,  you  did  not 
get  yoar  way."  "  No,"  he  answered,  ''  but  I  tried  very 
hard."  Again,  the  sensitiveness  which  throughout  his  long 
life  never  left  him,  is  discernable  in  the  forlorn  child  of 
seven,  who,  when  left  at  school  by  his  parents,  was  found 
crying  by  his  master.  To  cheer  him  up  he  suggested  that 
he  should  join  his  school-fellows.  To  this  he  objected — his 
tears  having  no  doubt  been  observed,  and  excited  derision — 
"  0  sir,  they  will  say  such  things  !  I  can't  help  crying."  On 
his  master  making  light  of  it,  "  0  sir,  but  they  will,  they  will 
say  all  sorts  of  things :"  and,  taking  his  master's  hand,  "  come 
and  see  for  yourself,"  John  led  him  into  the  crowded  room, 
where,  of  course,  under^  the  circumstances,  there  was  no 
teasing. 

To  his  sensitiveness,  which  by  some  persons  has  been 
considered  excessive,  we  should  be  disposed  to  attribute 
part  of  Newman's  influence.  It  surrounded  him,  so  to  say, 
with  feelers,  which,  whilst  acutely  influenced  by  all  that 
approached  him,  put  him  in  touch  with  the  feelings  of 
others,  and  enabled  him  to  sympathise  with  their  joys  and 
sorrows,  and  to  realize  both  with  an  accuracy  which  is  rare. 
An  affectionate  man,  and  one  who  is  keenly  alive  to  every 


582    Letters  and  Correspondence  of  John  Henry  Newma7i, 

gradation  of  feeling,  both  in  himself  and  others — and  this  a 
sensitive  vision  will  give — is  sure  to  be  a  deeply  sympathetic 
man.  The  very  pain  he  himself  experiences  at  coldness  or 
disapproval  will  sound  a  note  of  warning,  and  enable  him  to 
deal  with  others  otherwise  than  he  himself  has  been  dealt 
with.  "Such  sensitiveness  is  like  a  sixth  sense,  a  moral  and 
mental  sense  of  touch.  To  all,  and  more  especially  to  the 
young,  few  qualities  are  more  appealing  than  sympathy  ;  and 
this,  joined  to  his  great  intellectual  gifts,  his  power  of 
humour,  his  thorough  truthfulness  of  nature  and  hatred  of 
all  unreality,  created  the  personality  which  drew  after  him 
with  such  deep  affection  the  hearts  of  his  followers.  Not 
that  Newman  objected  to  criticism.  So  long  as  it  was 
unaccompanied  by  misunderstanding,  he  both  courted  and 
accepted  it,  and  from  many  of  these  letters  we  see  friendly 
criticism  freely  ventured  on,  and  taken  as  a  matter  of  course. 
He  did,  however,  find  it  hard  to  be  misunderstood ;  and  on 
the  delicate  ground  which  he  occupied  during  the  last  years 
of  his  Anglican  ministry,  misunderstanding  was  inevitable. 
Yet,  when  he  suffered  most  from  its  chilling  influence,  he 
seems  ever  to  have  felt  confident  that,  with  fuller  know- 
ledge, his  fellow-countrymen  would  do  him  justice — an 
anticipation  which,  it  is  consolatory  to  remember,  even  in  his 
lifetime,  was  reaHzed.  The  writing  of  the  Apologia  may 
have  been  a  trying  effort,  but  it  quickly  brought  its  reward, 
and  since  1864,  we  venture  to  say,  Newman  has  stood  fairly 
with  all  honest  Englishmen. 

The  scene  at  school  which  has  led  us  into  a  digression  on 
a  marked  characteristic  of  Newman's,  took  place  at  Ealing, 
at  Dr.  Nicholas'  school,  where  he  remained  over  eight  years, 
and  which  he  only  left  for  the  University. 

Even  at  school,  Newman  already  was  addicted  to  literary 
composition,  and  tells  us  that  he  took  much  pains  with  his 
style.  To  writing  and  to  books  he  devoted  most  of  his  play- 
time, and  was  rarely  to  be  seen  taking  part  in  any  game. 
From  an  early  age  he  seems  to  have  inspired  his  parents 
and  all  with  whom  he  came  in  contact  with  confidence  and 
even  with  respect ;  and  these  feelings  deepened  as  years 
advanced.     Thus  later  on,  when,  though  still  a  very  young 


during  Ids  life  in  the  English  Church.  583 

man,  he  was  established  at  Oriel,  his  family  chanced  to  be 
suffering  from  a  period  of  anxiety  which  he  also  shared,  his 
mother  writes  that  throughout  she  had  felt  sure  all  would 
end  well,  and   that   she   always    began   and   ended   every 
conversation  with  his  father  on  the  matter  by  saying:  "I 
have  no   fear;  John  will  manage."     But,  although  all  his 
tastes  were  innocent   and   his   behaviour  decorous,  at  the 
earlier  time  of  which  we  write,  there  is  nothing  to  show  that 
in  his  boyhood  Newman  was  particularly  religious.    Indeed, 
he  seems  hardly  to  have  wished  to  be  so.     He  writes:  "  I 
recollect,  in  1815, 1  believe,  thinking  fhat  I  should  like  to  be 
virtuous,  but  not  religious.      There  was  something  in  the 
latter  idea  I  did  not  like."     The  great  change,  w^hich  he 
calls  his   "  conversion,"  came  about  when   he  was  fifteen, 
though  we  hear  little  of  its  cause  or  the  immediate  events 
which  brought  it  about.     The  banking-house  with  which  his 
father  was  connected  stopped  payment  in  1816,  and,  as  one 
result  he  remained  at  Dr.  Nicholas'  school  for  six  months 
longer  than  had  been  intended.     Of  this  change  he  writes  : — - 
"  On  my  conversion,  how  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  God  is 
discerned  !     I  was  going  from  school  half  a  year  sooner  than 
I  did.     My  staying  arose  from  the  8th  of  March.     Thereby 
I  was  left  at  school  by  myself,  my  friends  gone  away."     Of 
the  reality  of  this  event    and    of   its   effects,  his  estimate 
through  life  remains  unaltered.     In  1864,  in  the  Apologia, 
he  writes:  *'  Of  the  inward  change  of  which  I  speak,  I  am 
still  more  certain  than  that  I  have  hands  and  feet ;"  and 
again  he  testifies  even  more  strongly  in  advanced  old  age  :— - 
''Of  course,  I  cannot  myself  be  the  judge  of  myself;  but, 
speaking  with  this  reserve,  I  should  say  that  it  is  difficult  to 
realize  or  imagine  the  identity  of  the  boy  before  and  after 
August,  1816.    .    .    I  can  look  back  at  the  end  of  seventy 
years  as  if  on  another  person."     From  this  date  his  mind 
seems  to  have  been  engrossed  with  the  subjects  that  filled 
his  after-life.     Theology  occupied  his  mind,  and  such  cognate 
subjects  as  the   appeal   to   conscience,  searchings  of  heart 
and  motives,  and  all  that  is  nearly  allied  to  our  relations 
with  God  and  the  unseen  world,  in  conduct,  in  intellect, 
and  in  will,  became  his  absorbing  and  pervading  interests. 


584    Letters  afid  Correspondence  of  John  Henrij  Newman, 

As  an  example  of  the  often  apparently  accidental  nature 
of  many  of  the  most  eventful  issues  in  our  lives,  Newman 
relates  that  even  at  the  last  moment,  when  the  post-chaise 
was  at  the  door,  his  father  was  undecided  as  to  whether  he 
should  order  the  horses'  heads  to  be  turned  in  the  direction 
of  Oxford  or  of  Cambridge.  Had  the  decision  been  other- 
wise, how  different  might  not  have  been  the  results  !  On 
reaching  Oxford,  Mr.  Newman  had  hoped  to  place  his  son  at 
Exeter  College ;  but  finding  no  vacancy  there,  Newman 
matriculated  at  Trinity,  and  shortly  afterwards  came  into 
residence.  From  his  earlier  letters,  he  seems  to  have  felt 
the  University  a  somewhat  uncongenial  home.  He  had 
come  to  Oxford  hoping  to  find  a  great  seat  of  learning ;  and 
yet,  at  first,  assistance  in  learning  seems  not  to  have  been 
easily  obtained.  Even  in  so  simple  a  matter  as  being 
directed  in  his  reading  for  the  vacation,  he  found  difficulties. 
On  his  applying  to  the  president  of  his  college  for  help,  he 
was  told  that  such  matters  were  left  to  the  tutors.  On 
turning  to  the  tutors,  in  the  first  instance,  he  obtained  no 
help,  only  a  recommendation  elsewhere  to  some  one  who 
might  assist  him.  He  persevered,  however,  and  was  at 
length  rewarded  by  the  information  he  wanted.  To  an 
outsider,  it  would  appear  that,  in  such  a  matter,  no  youth 
ought  to  have  been  left  to  take  the  initiative,  and  that, 
far  from  having  to  seek  direction,  it  ought  to  have  been 
offered  spontaneously.  Nor  were  Newman's  earlier  experi- 
ences amongst  his  fellow-undergraduates  much  happier. 
Neither  their  wine  parties  nor  their  conversation  were  much 
after  his  taste.  An  acquaintance  asked  him  to  his  rooms  on 
one  occasion,  to  take  a  glass  of  wine  with  a  few  others,  and 
he  writes  : — "  And  they  drank  and  drank  all  the  time  I  was 
there.  I  was  very  glad  that  prayers  came  half  an  hour  after 
I  came  to  them,  for  I  am  sure  I  was  not  entertained  with  either 
their  drinking  or  their  conversation."  One  friend,  however, 
he  made  in  the  earlier  days  of  his  residence  at  Trinity,  and 
with  him  acquaintance  deepened  into  a  warm  and  lasting 
friendship.  This  was  Mr.  Bowden,  who  for  the  rest  of  his 
life — he  died  prematurely  in  1844 — was  a  constant  corres- 
pondent  and  associate  of  Newman's.     He  himself  never 


during  his  life  in  the-  English  Church.  585 

became  a  Catholic — perhaps  owing  to  the  early  date  of  his 
death,  before  Newman's  own  conversion;  yet,  as  the  Church 
during  the  last  forty  years,  and  still  to-day,  is  indebted  to 
his  family  for  more  than  one  highly-valued  priest,  this  early 
friendship  is  worth  recording.  Had  it  never  existed,  the 
Church  might  not  have  numbered  them  amongst  her 
children. 

Mr.  Bowden  is  the  only  undergraduate  friend  of  whom 
we  hear,  and  Newman's  life  was  a  very  lonely  one.  He 
seems  to  have  lived  in  his  rooms,  as  he  expresses  it,  like 
a  hermit.  Even  so  eventful  a  public  incident  as  the 
death  of  Princess  Charlotte  only  became  known  to  him 
from  a  question  of  his  tailor  as  to  his  requiring  mourning. 
As  we  might  expect,  Newman  studied  hard,  and  he  quickly 
secured  a  scholarship  on  the  foundation  of  his  own  college. 
This  was,  however,  the  only  university  distinction  which  he 
gained  during  his  career  as  an  undergraduate.  In  spite  of 
his  assiduous  and  excessive  reading — indeed,  perhaps  in 
consequence  of  its  very  excess — he  broke  down  completely  in 
his  final  examinations,  and  instead  of  taking  the  highest 
honours  for  which  he  had  worked  hard  and  had  sanguine 
expectations  of  obtaining,  his  name  only  appeared  in  the 
lower  division  of  the  second  class  of  classical  honours.  This 
unlooked-for  failure  was  probably  as  much  the  result  of 
physical  as  of  mental  causes.  Newman  was  considerably 
younger  than  the  ordinary  age  for  taking  a  degree ;  he  had 
over-read  himself;  and,  being  called  up  sooner  than  he 
expected,  simply  lost  his  head.  He  experienced  a  similar 
attack  after  a  severe  course  of  reading  some  years  later,  when 
he  himself  was  an  examiner.  It  obliged  him  to  leave 
Oxford,  and  for  a  while  to  relinguish  his  office. 

Newman's  disappintment  in  the  schools  had  an  important 
effect  on  his  life.  His  father  had  destined  him  for  the  bar, 
and  had  already  entered  his  name  at  Lincoln's  Inn.  The 
failure  to  obtain  high  honours  induced  the  father  to  consent 
to  his  son's  change  of  a  profession,  and  in  1821  Newman 
decided  on  taking  Anglican  orders.  Some  years  would  still 
elapse  before  his  ordination ;  but  he  had  his  fellowship  at 
Trinity,  and  could  continue  to  reside  at  Oxford  and  take 


586    Letters  and  Correspondence  of  John  Henry  Newman^ 

pupils.  He  soon  after,  however,  was  able  to  obtain  a 
permanent  status  in  the  university.  An  opportunity  occur- 
ring, he  decided  on  standing  for  a  fellowship  at  Oriel  College. 
This  was  an  ambitious — he  himself  calls  it  an  audacious — • 
attempt  for  one  who  so  far  had  little  academical  success  of 
which  to  boast — a  fellowship  at  Oriel  being  the  object  of 
ambition  of  all  rising  men  at  Oxford.  He,  himself,  however, 
had  never  gauged  his  intellectual  merits  by  his  failure  in  the 
schools ;  he  knew  how  accidental  had  been  its  cause,  and 
did  not  now  despair.  As  it  is  well-known,  he  succeeded, 
and  thus  found  himself  at  an  unusually  early  age  occupying 
a  high  position  in  Oxford. 

Newman  ever  felt  the  12th  April,  1822,  the  date  of  his 
election — to  have  been  the  turning-point  in  his  life,  and  to 
the  end  remembered  the  day  with  thankfulness.  A  fellow- 
ship at  Oriel  gave  him  at  once  a  competency  and  a  status, 
and  enabled  him  to  join  in  the  higher  intellectual  society  of 
Oxford  as  an  equal.  It  opened  out  for  him  a  theological 
career,  by  bringing  him  into  contact  with  the  various  schools 
of  thought,  whereby  the  religious  sentiments  which  were 
now  habitual  to  him  were  further  developed  and  enlarged. 
He,  himself,  tells  us  that,  in  these  days,  he  never  wished 
for  anything  better  or  higher  than  "  to  live  and  die  a  fellow 
of  Oriel."  Little  did  he  foresee  that  he  would  live  a  religious 
and  die  a  Cardinal  of  the  Catholic  Church. 

In  Newman's  earlier  days  at  Oriel,  Whately,  after- 
wards Protestant  archbishop  of  Dublin,  was  the  man  wh6 
obtained  the  greatest  influence  with  him.  It  appears  that 
the  older  fellows  at  Oriel  found  their  latest  member  some- 
what difficult  to  get  on  with.  Newman's  extreme  shyness 
stood  in  the  way  of  easy  intercourse,  and  increased  the 
natural  diffidence  which  he  felt  at  finding  himself  at  the 
age  of  one-and-twenty  placed  in  a  position  of  equality  with 
men  whom  he  so  deeply  revered.  They,  therefore,  induced 
Whately  to  take  him  in  hand  and  to  break  through  his 
reserve,  a  task  for  which  he  was  well  adapted.  He  was  a 
great  talker,  and  his  conversation  was  both  lively  and  forcible, 
and  well  calculated  to  put  a  young  man  at  his  ease.  Newman 
soon  felt  great  affection  for  and  gratitude  to  Whately,  who, 


during  his  life  iii  the  English  Church.  587 

on  his  side,  shortly  after  their  acquaintance  began,  compli- 
mented him  on  being  the  clearest-headed  man  he  knew.  For 
four  years  Newman  was  strongly  influenced  by  Whately  in 
theological  questions,  and  his  intimacy  with  him  during  this 
period  was  considerable.  At  the  end  of  that  time  other 
influences  came  into  play,  and  gradually,  as  their  views 
diverged  more  and  more,  an  ahenation  arose  between  the 
two,  till  in  1854  when  Newman,  then  a  Catholic  priest,  was 
in  Dublin,  and  proposed  calling  on  Archbishop  Whately,  it 
was  intimated  to  him  that  his  visit  would  not  be  acceptable. 
Newman  himself,  indeed,  writes  in  1833: — ''As  to  poor 
Whately,  it  is  melancholy.  Of  course,  to  know  him  now  is 
impossible."  So  hot  was  the  zeal  of  the  young  tractarian, 
to  whom  the  idea  of  the  importance  of  an  orthodox  faith 
came  with  the  force  of  novelty !  When  once  within  the 
Church  we  see  it  mellowed  so  far  as  to  allow  himself  to 
propose  a  visit  to  Whately,  one  of  the  many  examples  of 
the  larger  charity  of  Catholics  in  dealing  with  those  of 
another  communion,  compared  with  that  of  Anglicans, 
in  their  intercourse  with  one  another. 

In  1824  Newman  was  ordained  deacon,  and  took  a 
curacy  at  St.  Clement's  in  Oxford.  This  was  an  old  church 
which  required  re-building,  and  the  incumbent  being  aged, 
the  energy  of  a  younger  man  was  required  to  collect  funds 
for  this  purpose.  Here  Newman  worked  steadily  for  the 
next  two  years,  remodelled  the  services,  and  was  active  in 
his  parochial  duties.  He  also  succeeded  in  raising  the 
^5,000  or  566,000  necessary  for  the  new  church,  in  which, 
however,  he  never  ministered,  as  he  relinquished  his  curacy 
on  being  appointed  public  tutor  of  his  college  in  1826. 

Slowly  but  surely  during  these  years  a  great  change  was 
coming  over  Newman's  religious  opinions.  Since  his  ''  con- 
version "  when  fifteen,  his  views  had  been  strictly  Evan- 
gelical; but  by  degrees,  partly  in  consequence  of  the 
atmosphere  of  the  common  room  at  Oriel,  partly  through  his 
friendship  with  Pusey,  Hawkins,  and  Hurrell  Froude,  these 
were  changed.  To  Pusey,  who  was  near  his  own  age,  he  became 
greatly  attached.  At  first,  in  writing  of  him,  he  uses  the  some- 
what patronising  phraseology  which   is   not   unusual   with 


-588    Letters  and  Correspondence  of  Jolm  Henry  Newman, 

Evangelicals  when  speaking  of  those  outside  their  own  iiarrow 
party.  He  hopes  "he  is  Thine,  0  Lord,"  yet  fears  "he  is 
greatly  prejudiced  against  God's  children,"  and  then  prays 
that  "he  may  be  brought  into  the  true  Church."  Soon, 
however,  his  tone  changes  into  genuine  admiration,  and  a 
hope  that  he  may  have  grace  to  imitate  Pusey's  humility, 
gentleness,  and  love.  Hawkins  was  considerably  Newman's 
senior.  His  views  were  similar  to  Pusey's,  and  chance 
throwing  him  much  in  contact  at  this  time  with  Newman, 
his  opinions  were  not  without  their  influence.  More  strong 
than  all,  however,  was  the  effect  of  his  intercourse  with 
Hurrell  Froude,  who  became  one  of  his  greatest,  if  not  his 
very  dearest  friend  from  1826,  when  he  was  elected  Fellow 
of  Oriel.  Of  him  he  writes : — "  He  is  one  of  the  acutest  and 
"Jearest  and  deepest  men  in  the  memory  of  man."  They 
s^  on  became  extremely  intimate,  visited  each  other's  families ; 
and  when,  latter  on,  Froude's  health  required  that  he  should 
winter  in  the  south  of  Europe,  Newman  accompanied  him 
and  his  father  in  the  journey. 

Two  severe  domestic  sorrows  befell  Newman  during  the 
years  of  which  we  write.  -In  1824  he  lost  his  father,  to  whom 
he  was  deeply  attached,  and  stilt  more  bitter  grief  was  the 
death  of  his  bright  young  sister,  Mary,  in  1827.  For  her 
Newman  seems  to  have  felt  a  special  affection,  and  nowhere 
else  is  the  veil  more  lifted  from  his  most  intimate  feelings, 
and  on  no  other  occasion  are  we  allowed  to  sound  their  deep 
tenderness  so  fully  as  when  he  is  writing  of  her  loss.  One 
of  her  letters  to  her  brother,  written  shortly  before  her 
very  sudden  death,  is  given  in  these  volumes — a  happy 
mixture  of  respect,  admiration,  affection,  and  playfulness, 
from  which  we  can  well  picture  an  engaging  and  charming 
girl.  Her  death  is  the  subject  of  the  touching  poem  headed, 
"  Consolations  in  Bereavement ;"  and  through  life  her 
image  seems  never  to  have  faded  from  his  vision.  On  his 
return  to  Oxford,  after  her  death,  he  writes  to  another  sister 
begging  her  carefully  to  note  down  all  that  she  can  remem- 
ber about  Mary;  "  her  general  character,  and  all  the 
delightful  things  we  can  now  recollect  concerning  her. 
Alas !    memory  ^does  not  ^remain  vivid,  and  we  shall  else 


during  his  life  in  the  English  Church.  589 

forget  it."  In  his  solitary  rides,  whilst  enjoying  the  first 
May  beauty  of  the  country,  he  writes:  "Mary  seems  em- 
bodied in  every  tree,  and  hid  behind  every  hill ;"  and,  again, 
in  November,  he  tells  us  he  has  learnt  to  find  a  special 
beauty  in  trees  and  swamps  and  fogs  :  "  a  solemn  voice 
seems  to  chant  from  everywhere ;  I  know  whose  voice 
it  is — her  dear  voice.  Her  form  is  almost  nightly  before  me, 
when  I  have  put  out  the  hght  and  lain  down."  Newman's 
deep  affection  for  his  family  is  apparent  throughout  his 
letters,  and  both  his  father  and  his  mother's  death  touched 
him  nearly;  but,  in  neither  case  does  his  grief  so  overwhelm 
him  as  at  the  premature  death  of  his  sweet  Mary. 

As  years  went  by,  and  Newman  was  fully  engaged  in 
the  work  of  a  tutor  at  Oriel,  a  certain  difference  in  opinion 
arose  between  him  and  Hawkins,  who  by  this  time  was 
Provost  of  Oriel.  Space  forbids  our  entering  into  its  details. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  it  arose  from  a  divergence  in  the  view  which 
Newman  took  of  his  relation  to  his  pupils  (he  considering  it 
of  a  very  intimate  and  even  spiritual  nature)  to  that  taken 
by  the  provost,  who  considered  it  merely  an  educational 
arrangement.  Although  this  did  not  affect  their  united 
action  all  at  once,  the  difference  was  sufficiently  grave  to 
make  compromise  impossible,  and  it  ended  by  the  provost 
practically  depriving  Newman  of  his  ofQce,  by  refusing  to 
put  any  more  pupils  under  his  care.  He  continued  to 
instruct  those  already  entrusted  to  him,  but  by  the  vacation 
of  1832  they  had  taken  their  degree,  and  his  tutorship  was 
at  an  end. 

Driven  from  ordinary  work,  and  yet  tied  to  Oxford  by 
his  position  of  vicar  of  Mary's  (he  had  succeeded  to  this 
benefice),  Newman  on  his  return  home  took  to  work  of 
another  nature,  and  commenced  issuing  the  eventful  ''  Tracts 
for  the  Times."  Humanly  speaking,  these  would  never  have 
been  commenced  had  he  not  been  deprived  of  his  tutorship ; 
and  of  their  importance  to  Newman  and  to  the  body  to 
which  he  then  belonged,  it  is  unnecessary  to  speak.  With 
the  tracts  began  the  change  in  the  Established  Religion 
which  enables  Anglicans  not  untruly  to  speak  of  our  Catholic 
cardinal  as  the  founder  of  the  English  Church  as  to-day  we 
see  it. 


590    Letters  and  Correspondence  of  John  Henry  Newman^ 

As  we  stated  above,  it  was  with  Hurrell  Froude  and  his 
father  that  Newman  made  his  first  experiences  of  foreign 
travel,  and  his  letters  home,  mainly  to  his  family,  give  a 
vivid  account  of  his  journeyings.  His  enjoj^ment  of  fresh 
scenes  is  extreme,  and  his  description  of  his  early  days  at 
sea,  when  he  coasted  down  the  western  side  of  Europe,  gives 
us  a  bright  picture  of  sea  and  land,  seen  through  the  clear 
medium  of  a  southern  atmosphere,  which  enhances  the 
beauty  of  both.  They  sailed  to  Gibraltar,  from  thence  to 
Malta  and  the  Greek  islands,  then  back  to  Naples,  and  so  to 
Eome. 

It  is  gratifying  to  find  that  from  the  first  Newman  is 

able  thoroughly  to  appreciate  Eome.     On  the  morning  after 

his  arrival  he  writes  that  it  is  the  first  city  he  has  been  able 

to  admire — that,  like  Aaron's  rod,  it  swallowed  up  all  the 

admiration  which  in  other  cases  is  distributed  among  Naples, 

Valetta,  and  other  towns.     It  is  constantly  described  in  his 

letters    as  a    wonderful  place.     Once,  when   detailing   the 

mingled   feelings   which   at   that    date  it   aroused   in   him, 

feelings  of  reverence  for  the  place  of  martyrdom  and  burial 

of  the  Apostles,  and  for  the  city  to  which  England  owes  the 

blessing  of  the  Gospel,  but  degraded  to-day,  as  he  thought, 

by  superstitions  introduced  as  essential  parts  of  Christianity 

— he  calls  it  "  a  cruel  place."     In   the   remains  of  pagan 

Eome  he  sees  specimens  of  the  exertions  of  our  great  enemy 

against  heaven  :  "  The  Coliseum  is  quite  a  tower  of  Babel.'* 

From   early  prejudices — it   can  have   been   from  no   other 

cause,  for  so  far  he  had  never  been  brought  in  contact  with 

Catholicism — he  cannot  divest  himself  of  the  idea  that  even 

Christian   Eome   is   under   a   special   shade,  though   he   is 

obliged  to  own  that  her  clergy  are  correct  and  decorous,  and 

that  Sunday  is  well  observed.     Evidently  he  sees  nothing  to 

confirm  his  idea,  and  for  this  reason,  perhaps,  he  writes  to 

his  mother : — "  As  to  the  Eoman  Catholic  system,  I  have 

ever  detested  it  so  much  that  I  cannot  detest  it  more  by 

seeing  it."   Finding  nothing  in  Eome  to  change  unreasoning 

aversion  into  thoughtful  disapproval,  he  falls  back  on  early 

prejudices    as    a    means    of  reassuring    his    mother,      He 

seems,  in  fact,  to  have  regarded  the  ecclesiastical  system  of 


during  his  life  in  the  English  Church.  591 

Kome  from  the  simple  point  of  view  of  the  ordinary  English 
tourist,  and  dogmatizes  as  to  the  amount  of  fasting  in  prac- 
tice amongst  the  Eoman  clergy,  with  an  assumption  of 
knowledge  to  which,  in  later  days,  he  affixed  the  words, 
*' this  is  nonsense." 

However,  as  Hawthorn,  a  man  of  a  very  different  stamp 
of  genius,  has  well  described,  after  a  first  visit,  perhaps  the 
full  charm  of  Kome  is  only  felt  by  a  Protestant  when  he  has 
turned  his  back  on  the  Eternal  City.  When  Newman 
returns  to  Naples  his  tone  is  changed.  "  How  shall  I 
describe  the  sadness  with  which  I  left  the  tomb  of  the 
Apostles  !"  he  writes  almost  in  Catholic  words ;  "  Eome  has 
a  part  of  my  heart  ;  and,  in  going  away  from  it,  I  am  as  it 
were  tearing  it  in  twain."  '*  Oh  that  Eome  were  not 
Eome,"  he  exclaims  in  another  place.  We  already  hear  the 
first  note  of  his  despairing  poem,  "  Oh  !  that  thy  creed  were 
sound,"  and  his  heart  and  his  affections  and  his  sympathies 
are  already  stirring  in  the  direction  whither  he  himself  is 
destined  to  move.  In  Eome  Newman  parted  from  the 
Froudes,  and  proceeded  alone  to  Sicily.  Here,  as  is  well 
known,  he  was  prostrated  by  serious  illness  and  fever 
which  delayed  his  return  to  England  for  a  considerable 
time. 

Of  Newman's  interest  in  his  own  sensations  and  expe- 
riences we  have  a  striking  example  in  the  vivid  account  of 
his  illness  which  he  wrote  some  years  afterwards ;  it  is 
sufficiently  characteristic  to  deserve  notice,  especially  as  he 
ever  looked  on  this  fever  as  a  turning-point  in  his  life. 
Throughout  its  course,  although  conscious  that  those  around 
him  thought  differently,  he  always  felt  sure  he  should  recover. 
As  he  sat  on  his  bed,  weakened  and  prostrated  by  the  fever, 
he  reiterated  that  he  should  not  die,  as  God  had  work  for 
him  in  England ;  and  his  recovery  he  took  as  a  special  grace 
from  God,  which  obliged  him  to  consecrate  his  life  still  more 
emphatically  to  His  undivided  service.  In  one  passage  of 
deep  interest  Newman  details  his  feelings,  which  are 
evidently  made  acutely  active  by  the  fever  working  in  his 
blood.  The  very  fact,  however,  of  their  vividness  allows  of 
their  being  put  into  words  with  a  definiteness  which  else 


592    Letters  and  Correspo7idence  of  John  Henry  Newman, 

might  have  eluded  him.  The  sensation  of  hollo wness  which 
great  souls  will  sometimes  experience  both  in  themselves 
and  in  all  around  them  oppressed  him  greatly.  He  seems  to 
have  viewed  himself  as  not  really  imbued  with  high  truth 
and  great  principles,  but  as  merely  an  intellectual  medium 
through  which  they  could  be  presented  to  others  :  ''  as  a 
pane  of  glass  which  transmits  heat,  being  cold  itself." 
Keble,  he  thinks,  states  to  him  his  convictions,  and  these 
Newman's  intellectual  capacity  enables  him  to  draw  out, 
and  to  present  to  the  world  with  rhetorical  and  histrionic 
power.  Indeed,  that  he  takes  hold  of  truths  as  he  might 
sing  a  pleasing  tune,  but  as  things  outside  himself,  "  loving 
the  truth,  but  not  possessing  it ;  at  heart  hollow,  with  little 
love  and  little  self-denial."  Yet  throughout  he  often  repeats 
the  words,  "  1  have  not  sinned  against  light."  Then  he 
describes  all  the  incidents  of  his  fever — his  faintings  and 
weakness,  his  wilfulness,  and  yet  his  submissiveness  to  his 
servant.  After  these  follow  the  joys  of  convalescence. 
From  the  village  where  he  had  been  stricken  down  he 
travelled  to  Palermo  as  soon  as  he  could  move.  Even  to  an 
ordinary  traveller  the  beauty  of  the  month  of  May  in  such  a 
country  is  well-nigh  intoxicating.  The  spring  luxuriance 
was  around  him  and  on  every  side,  the  vines  and  fig-trees  in 
their  fresh  green  robes,  the  scent  of  orange-trees  in  full 
flower,  the  carpet  of  flowers  below,  the  distant  snow-topped 
mountains  forming  a  fitting  background  to  the  bright  and 
beautiful  scene — "'  all  was  in  tune  with  my  reviving  life." 
Even  from  his  returning  appetite  he  derives  a  pleasure 
beyond  the  mere  gratification  of  a  material  sense.  His  tea 
and  his  broth  gave  him  a  sensation  of  ecstatic  delight,  and 
he  exclaims,  "It  is  life  from  the  dead." 

He  ends  the  account  of  his  illness  with  prophetic  words. 
It  was  written  in  1840,  and  at  that  date  it  must  have  seemed 
an  event  of  little  importance  to  any  beyond  his  own 
immediate  friends.  Many  another  English  traveller  has 
been  struck  down  with  malarious  fever,  and  in  all  cases  the 
illness  runs  its  course,  brings  its  pains  and  subsequent 
pleasure  with  it.  Why,  in  Newman's  case,  should  it  need 
recording  ?    He  says :  '*  The  thought  keeps  pressing  on  m^ 


during  his  lije  in  the  English  Church.  593 

while  I  write  this,  what  am  I  writing  it  for?"  and  then  he 
adds,  "  Shall  I  ever  have  spiritual  children  who  will  take  an 
interest?" 

This  question  carries  us  over  a  long  span  of  time  since 
1840 ;  and  half  a  century  later,  we  can  give  it  no  unhesitating 
answer.     We  seem  to  see  a  multitude  of  men  and  women 
past  numbering,  who,  perhaps  differing  widely  in  all  else,  yet 
here  agree  to  take  an  interest.    There  are  men  of  science  who 
have  reason  to  pause  and  ponder  in  their  materializing  course 
before  the  interest  excited  by  one  great  mind — a  mind  whose 
simple  faith  in  a  spiritual  world  they  cannot  view  with  the 
contempt  they  might  feel  for  that  of  a  lesser  intellect.     Then 
we  see  sceptics  who  are   driven   to   acknowledge  that  the 
mere  fact  of  so  great  a  man  having  bowed  before  God's 
revelation,   adds   to    its    supposed   myths,  at   any  rate,  an 
intelligent     interest.        Again,     we     have     earnest-minded 
Christians,  who  by  God's  inscrutable  ways,  are  permitted 
whilst  loving  their  Lord  to  deny  all  grace  and  truth  to  His 
Church,  and  who  are  yet  arrested  by  and  interested  in  a  body 
to  whose  paramount  and  exclusive  claims  Newman  yielded, 
and  in  which,  flying  from  his  own  home  and  from  his  own 
people,  he  found  rest  and  peace.      And,  lastly,  amongst  his 
own  Communion,  who  is  there  who  does  not  take  an  interest  ? 
First,  in  his  own  cloistered  abode,  we  see  a  venerable  and 
aged  form   surrounded  by  his  '*  spiritual  children,"  and  to 
these  every  part,  act,  and  word  of  their  great  father  and  friend 
is  of  the  deepest  interest.     Then  beyond,  if  we  look  at  our 
churches,   convents,   and    schools,   at    the    beauty   of    our 
buildings,  the  richness  of  our  services,  and  the  devotion  of 
our  people,  we  may  remember  that  much  of  all  we  see  and 
admire  is  due  to  those  on  whom  the  gift  of  faith  was  bestowed 
as  a  result  of  the  interest  they  took  in  Newman.     They  now 
strive  to  repay  their  own  great  gain  by  lavishing  material 
splendour  and  deep  devotion  on  the  Church  into  which  he 
led  them;  and  in  this  they  are  nobly  seconded  by  many, 
who  although  the  faith  came  to  them  as  their  birthright, 
yet  owe  a  more  intelligent  and  spiritual  acceptance  of  the 
same  to  the  interest   which   he   aroused   in   them.      Thus, 
when  Newman  asks:   *' Shall  I  ever  have  in  my  old  age 
VOL.  XII.  2  p 


594  History  of  the  Ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass. 

spiritual  children  who  will  take  an  interest  ? "  we 
may  answer:  "  Thy  children  shall  be  as  the  sands  by 
the  sea  .  .  .  and  they  shall  rise  up  and  call  thee 
blessed." 

Of  the  second  half  of  Newman's  Anglican  life  we  hope  to 
write  on  another  occasion. 

Cecil  Clayton. 


HISTOEY  OF  THE  CEEEMONIAL  OF  HOLY  MASS. 

HOLY  Mass,  in  its  essence,  was  celebrated  by  our  Divine 
Lord  "  on  the  night  before  He  suffered  ;"  but  that  He 
wore  vestments,  such  as  the  priest  offering  Holy  Mass  in  our 
days  does,  or  that  He  said  the  same  prayers  (excepting,  of 
course,  the  sacred  words  of  consecration),  or  that  He  used 
the  same  gestures  according  to  the  rites  and  rubrics  which 
the  celebrant  is  bound  nowadays  to  follow,  seems  as  foreign 
to  our  thoughts,  if  not  more  so,  than  to  our  ears.  The 
ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass,  therefore,  has  undergone  change 
and  development  from  time  to  time  until  it  has  become  what 
we  find  it  to-day.  In  the  early  ages  of  the  Church,  no 
doubt,  ceremonial  was  used  in  the  celebration  of  Holy  Mass; 
but  from  records  and  from  tradition  it  is  certain  that  it  was 
not  identical  in  all  points — the  one  sacred  moment  of 
consecration  always  excepted — with  what  we  see  at  our 
altars. 

It  is  quite  unnecessary  to  remark,  that  change  of  cere- 
monial does  not  imply  change  of  doctrine.  The  Catholic 
Church  of  to-day  teaches  the  very  same  truth  that  the 
Divine  Master  taught,  and  in  the  selfsame  words — that  the 
bread  by  the  words  of  consecration  is  changed  into  the  body 
of  Christ,  and  the  wine  into  His  precious  blood  ;  so  that  our 
Divine  Lord  might  stand  on  the  altar,  and,  looking  to  the 
sacred  species  after  consecration,  declare,  *'  This  is  My  body, 
this  is  My  blood." 


History  of  the  Ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass.  595 

The  Evangelists  give  us  no  detail  of  ceremonial,  or  very 
little.  They  state  the  fact  that  this  adorable  mystery  took 
place.  That  was  all  that  their  duty  when  writing  the  holy 
Gospels  demanded  of  them.  It  would  be  very  interesting, 
indeed,  to  us  to  take  up  St.  Mathew,  for  instance,  and  read 
there  a  detailed  description  of  that  last  evening  of  the  mortal 
life  of  our  Lord — how  it  was  spent,  how  He  sat,  what  He 
said,  how  He  introduced  the  feast,  how  it  passed  over,  and 
what  He  did  after ;  every  look,  every  word,  every  action  ; 
just  as  we  read.  He  told  them  that  one  should  betray  Him, 
and  they  being  very  much  troubled  began  to  say,  ''  Is  it  I, 
Lord  ?  "  or,  ''  Peter  answering,  said  to  Him,  Though  all 
men  be  scandalized  in  Thee,  I  will  never  be  scandalized;" 
or  with  the  same  minuteness  of  detail  that  he  describes  the 
sacred  agony  in  the  Garden. 

St.  Mark  is  quite  as  reticent  as  St.  Mathew. 

From  St.  Luke,  who  describes  with  such  circumstance 
of  detail  the  beginning  of  our  Divine  Lord's  life,  we  might 
expect  some  amplification.  But  no,  the  mystery  in  the 
upper  room  is  related  with  much  the  same  brevity.  Yet 
how  interesting  the  few  details  he  does  give — "  A  man 
carry  iiig  a  pitcher  of  water''  through  the  streets  of  the  city; 
'*  he  will  show  you  a  large  dining-room  furnished ;''  and 
that  beautiful  saying  that  in  all  times  has  won  so  many 
hearts,  "  With  desire  I  have  desired  to  eat  this  pasch  tvith 
you  before  I  suffer." 

The  beloved  disciple  has,  indeed,  a  great  deal  about  what 
took  place  in  that  "  large  dining-room  ;"  "  He  poureth  water 
into  a  hasin,  and  began  to  wash  the  feet  of  the  disciples,  and 
to  wipe  them  with  the  towel  ivherewith  He  was  girded;" 
"  When  Jesus  had  said  these  things,  He  was  troubled  in 
spirit,  and  He  protested  and  said,  Amen,  amen,  I  say  to  you, 
that  one  of  you  shall  betray  Me;"  but  of  ceremonial,  no 
detail  whatever. 

Finally,  in  St.  Paul  to  the  Corinthians  (1  Ep.  xi.  23-27) 
we  have  again  the  one  adorable  fact,  but  no  circumstance  of 
detail. 

All  the  knowledge  we  obtain  from  the  New  Testament 
with  regard  to  the  ceremonial  used  by  our  Divine  Lord  may 


596  History  of  the  Ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass. 

be  summed    up  in  the  one  stanza  of  the  beautiful  hymn  of 
St.  Thomas  Aquinas  : — 

"■  In  supremae  nocte  coenae, 
Eecumbens  cum  fratribus, 
Observata  lege  plene, 
Cibis  in  legalibus, 
Cibum  turbae  duodenae, 
Se  dat  suis  manibus." 

In  the  Dolorous  Passion  of  Sister  Catherine  Emmerich 
there  is  a  chapter  which,  whatever  may  be  thought  of  the 
mystical  writings  of  that  (seemingly)  holy  and  very  mortified 
nun,  will  at  any  rate  impress  the  devout  mind  in  an  edifying 
manner : — 

'*  The  table  was  narrow,  and  about  half  a  foot  higher  than  the 
knees  of  a  man.     In  shape  it  resembled  a  horse  shoe. 
The  paschal  lamb  was  placed  on  a  dish  in  the  centre  of  the  table 
.     .     .     They  ate  in  haste,''  &c. 

"There  has  always  been  a  tradition  in  the  Church  [says 
Dr.  Gasquet^],  as  St.  Jerome  and  St.  Nazianzen  bear  witness,  that 
the  Christian  Church  derived  its  services  from  the  Synagogue." 

It  was  but  fitting  that  so  wonderful  a  mystery  as  the 
adorable  mystery  of  Transubstantiation  should  have  a  cere- 
monial'. 

"  Si  quid  est  in  rebus  humanis  plane  divinum  [says 
Pope  Urban  VIII.  in  his  Letter  prefixed  to  every  copy  of  the 
Missal],  quod  nobis  superni  cives  (si  in  eos  invidia  caderet) 
invidere  possent,  id  certe  est  sacrosanctum  missae  sacrificium; 
cujus  beneficio  fit,  ut  homines  quadam  anticipatione  possideant 
in  terris  coelum,  dum  ante  oculos  habent,  et  manibus  contractant 
ipsum  coeli  terraeque  conditorem." 

Two  things  we  read  with  regard  to  the  Deity — one  in  the 
Old  Testament,  and  one  in  the  New — both  typical  of  the 
several  dispensations  :  "  And  behold  thunders  began  to  be 
heard,  and  lightning  to  flash,  and  a  very  thick  cloud  to  cover 
the  mount,  and  the  noise  of  the  trumpet  sounded  exceeding 
loud;  and  all  Mount  Sinai  was  in  a  smoke,  because  the  Lord 


See  Dublin  Review,  April,  1890. 


History  of  the  Ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass.  597 

came  down  on  it  in  fire,  and  the  smoke  arose  from  it  as  out 
of  a  furnace,  and  all  the  mount  was  terrible."  (Exod.  xix. 
16-18.)  ''  And  she  brought  forth  her  first-born  son,  and 
wrapping  him  in  swaddling  clothes,  laid  Him  in  a  manger." 
(Luke  ii.  7.) 

Adorable  and  terrible  as  God  indeed  is,  we  see  by  the 
change  from  the  law  of  fear  to  the  law  of  grace  how  He 
desires  to  be  approached,  and  by  what  rites  and  ceremonies 
He  is  to  be  surrounded  and  served  in  the  Christian  system. 
It  is  that  of  sweetness  and  meekness  ;  and  beautifully  in  all 
ages  has  the  bride  understood  the  wishes  of  the  bridegroom, 
and  interpreted  them.  Different  times  and  different  circum- 
stances have  made  an  outward  change  in  the  rites  and  cere- 
monial, but  the  spirit  and  the  essence  have  always  remained 
the  same. 

In  the  first  centuries  there  were  two  things  that  pre- 
vented the  expansion  of  the  Church's  ceremonial.  These 
were  the  persecutions  of  the  emperors  and  their  officers,  in 
the  first  place;  and  in  the  second,  the  fear  of  exposing  the 
holiest  and  most  adorable  of  mysteries  to  the  ridicule  or 
the  blasphemy  of  the  profane.  This  latter  is  known  as  the 
*'  discipline  of  the  secret,''  disciplinaarca^ii.  Between  those 
apostolic  times  and  our  day  there  were  two  halting-places  at 
which  great  and  lasting  changes  were  made  in  the  outer 
formula  of  the  Church's  worship  :  one  was  in  the  time  of 
Pope  Gregory  the  Great,  the  other  was  at  the  Council  of 
Trent.  These  regulated  the  ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass,  as 
we  now  have  it,  and  as  it  will  be  to  the  end  of  time  in  all 
probability. 

It  is  in  the  very  nature  of  the  Church's  constitution  and 
tradition,  as  well  as  in  the  instinctive  clinging  of  man  to 
everything  holy  and  venerable  in  the  past,  that  we  should 
have  in  our  present  ceremonial  some  of  the  prayers  and  rites 
of  the  apostolic  times,  and  that  some  of  those  ceremonies 
which  our  priests  to-day  perform  and  exercise  were  conse- 
crated by  the  very  Apostles  of  the  Lord,  if  not  by  the  Lord 
Jesus  Himself.  St.  Justin  says  : — "  We  Christians  have 
learned  the  divine  worship  through  the  Apostles  of  Jesus, 
from  the  law  and   the  word  which   have   gone  forth  from 


598  History  of  the  Ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass. 

Jerusalem."     {Dial,  cap.  110.)     St.  Justin  lived  during  the 
second  century,  and  ought  to  have  known. 

"  Even  such  a  cautious  scholar  as  Dr.  Lightfoot  [writes 
Dr.  Gasquet]  was  satisfied  that  in  St.  Clement's  time — namely, 
the  end  of  the  first  century — there  must  have  been  already  not 
only  a  definite  framework,  but  more  or  less  uniformity  in  the 
substance  and  very  language  of  the  liturgical  petitions." 

Before  the  time  of  Pope  Gregory  there  were,  broadly,  four 
great  rites — the  Alexandrian,  the  Eoman,  the  Ambrosian, 
and  the  Hispano-Gallican  or  Mozarabic.  Scholars  and  anti- 
quarians spend  a  good  deal  of  time,  and  usefully,  in  distin- 
guishing the  characteristics  of  these  several  rites ;  but  for  all 
purposes  of  usefulness  for  the  general  reader  it  will  be 
sufficient  to  point  out  what  Mass  ordinarily  in  those  early 
Christian  times  was  like  ;  that  is,  in  its  ceremonial. 

Let  us  take  the  sacred  words  of  consecration  as  our 
reckoning  point.  In  the  times  of  the  persecutions,  and  in 
the  Church  of  the  catacombs,  the  ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass, 
it  is  believed,  consisted  of  little  more  than  the  consecration 
and  the  canon.  This  was  due  to  the  stress  of  the  times  in 
which  the  Church  then  existed.  If  the  small  but  beautiful 
work  of  Cardinal  Wiseman,  Fabiola,  be  read  with  a  careful 
eye,  one  will  find  in  it  many  instructive  and  interesting 
details. 

After  emerging  from  the  catacombs,  and  before  obtaining 
religious  freedom,  the  Church  had  to  adapt  its  ceremonial 
again  to  the  special  necessities  of  the  times.  It  was  then 
that  the  unhappy  lapses  of  her  unfaithful  children  came  to 
add  its  effect  to  that  which  the  discipli^ia  arcani  had  already 
made.  In  the  earlier  part  of  the  Mass  then  there  were  the 
Catechume7is,  who  were  prevented  assisting  at  the  consecra- 
tion by  the  rule  of  the  discijplina  arcani  ;  these  were  there- 
fore ordered  by  the  deacon  to  leave  the  Church  at  an  early 
stage.  Next  came  the  Pentitents,  when  certain  prayers  were 
said  over  them,  in  the  responses  to  which  all  the  faithful 
joined  ;  they,  too,  were  dismissed.  Then  began  the  Oblata, 
followed  by  the  Preface  and  the  Canon,  somewhat  substan- 
tially as  we  have  them  at  present. 

The  ceremonial  of  Good  Friday  is  looked  upon  as  a  relic 


History  oj  the  Ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass.  599 

of  those   very   early  times,  and  answers,  it  is  said,  quite 
closely  to  what  took  place  then. 

It  is  very  instructive  to  run  through  the  parts  of  the 
Mass,  and  appoint  their  history  and  their  time. 

For  the  first  psalm  of  the  Mass,  the  Judica,  it  will  be 
necessary  to  picture  in  imagination  the  old  monasteries  of 
the  Middle  Ages  with  their  numerous  community  of  monks. 
Leaving  the  sacristy  in  procession  they  chanted — and 
beautiful  and  appropriate  it  was — "  Judge  me,  0  God,  and 
distinguish  my  cause,"  as  they  proceeded  to  the  altar.  The 
masses  for  the  dead  allowed  none  of  the  rejoicing  expressed 
in  this  psalm,  and  as  silence  became  the  occasion  they 
uttered  not  a  word  as  they  moved  "  solemn-paced  and  slow" 
between  the  bier  and  the  altar.  The  Koman  missal  at  the 
time  of  the  revision  looked  on  this  psalm  as  so  suitable  that 
it  adopted  it. 

The  Judica  is  found  in  many  mediaeval  missals,  being 
probably  derived  from  the  Gallican  Liturgy.  It  was  gene- 
rally recited  as  the  celebrant  went  from  the  sacristy  to  the 
altar,  but  was  recommended  by  Innocent  III.  to  be  said  as 
at  present."^  The  propriety  of  the  Confiteor  is  at  once 
evident.  It  is  said  to  come  down  from  the  tenth  or  eleventh 
century. 

The  Introit,  as  the  name  implies,  was  something  said  or 
sung  at  the  entrance  of  the  priest.  At  first  the  Introit  was 
sung  by  the  choir  while  the  sacred  ministers  were 
approaching  the  altar — as,  for  instance,  is  laid  down  in  the 
missal  on  the  Feast  of  the  Purification  before  the  blessing 
of  the -candles,  and  on  Ash  Wednesday  before  the  blessing 
of  the  ashes.  ''  The  principal  change,"  writes  Dr.  Gasquet, 
"  in  the  Introit  was  that  the  celebrant  came  to  recite  these 
parts  of  the  service  which  were  at  first  choral.  I  suppose 
the  custom  began  with  private  masses,  and  extended  thence 
to  all." 

Of  all  the  very  ancient  parts  of  the  Mass  that  have 
remained  to  us,  the  prayer  Kyrie  eleison,  solemn  and 
pathetic,  is  among  the  most  ancient.     The  very  language — ■ 

Dr.    Gasquet. 


600  History  oj  the  Ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass. 

namely,  the  Greek — tells  us  at  once  how  very  venerable  it 
must  be.  This  touching  prayer  was  spoken  over  the  cate- 
chumens in  the  early  ages  and  during  the  ceremonial  of  the 
Holy  Mass.  It  was  likewise  implored  on  the  unfortunate 
persons  known  then  as  ''  energumeni"  or  "possessed,"  and 
priests  and  people  alternately  chanted  Kyrie  eleison — 
"Lord  have  mercy."  It  was  spoken  also  over  those  unbaptized 
who  had  completed  their  term  of  trial  and  their  course  of 
instruction,  and  who  were  therefore  called  "competentes;" 
and,  finally,  it  was  prayed  over  all  those  who  had  in  an  hour 
of  weakness  denied  the  faith,  and  had  returned  penitent  to 
the  doors  of  the  Church  to  be  received  back  again. 

Over  these  several  groups  it  was  spoken,  and  an  appro- 
priate prayer  added,  as  may  be  seen  by  recurring  again  to 
the  Good  Friday  ceremonial.  Now,  when  all  these  things 
had  changed,  when  catechumens  were  no  longer  as  in  the 
old  times,  and  penitents  no  longer,  then  the  special  prayers 
were  dropped  as  being  without  a  necessity,  and  "  the  void 
was  filled,"  says  Dr.  Gasquet,  "  by  the  Gloria  in  excelsis  and 
the  Collects." 

It  is  not  known  who  is  the  author  of  the  beautiful  canticle 
Gloria  in  excelsis ;  but  it  is  much  more  to  the  matter  to 
recognise  its  beauty  and  piety.  "At  the  Gloria  in  excelsis,'' 
says  Cardinal  Bona,  "  the  priest,  struck  with  wonder  that  a 
sinner  in  a  strange  land  dare  sing  the  canticle  of  the  angels, 
should  add  affections  of  praise,  adoration,  thanksgiving,  love, 
hope,  zeal  for  the  glory  of  God."  "  The  Gloria  in  excelsis'' 
says  the  author  of  the  Explanation  of  the  Liturgy  of  the 
Mass,  "dates  from  the  very  origin  of  Christianity  .  .  . 
Of  all  the  forms  of  praise  by  which  we  attempt  to  express 
our  homages  to  the  Almighty,  it  is  one  of  the  finest  speci- 
mens ever  composed  by  man." 

To  understand  the  history  of  the  Collects  we  have  again 
to  look  back  to  the  early  ages.  The  numerous  prayers  of 
those  times  were  collected  by  Popes  Gregory  and  Gelasius, 
and,  reduced  in  number,  were  set  on  the  altars  almost  in  their 
present  form.  Two  things  rendered  this  change  necessary. 
The  period  of  the  catechumens  and  energumens  had  passed 
away,  and  the  roll  of  the  canonized  saints  who  were  hence- 


History  of  the  Ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass.  601 

forward  to  be  honoured  at  the  altars  had  greatly  increased. 
It  is  not  easy  to  say  from  what  motive  they  came  to  be 
called  Collects;  whether  from  the  saying  of  our  Divine  Lord, 
'*  Where  two  or  three  are  gathered  together  in  My  name," 
&c.,  or  because  the  prayer  is  an  abridgment  of  all  that  might 
be  asked ;  but,  as  has  been  seen,  in  their  conception  or 
idea  they  are  of  apostolic  origin. 

Of  the  Epistle  and  Gospel,  it  need  not  be  said,  that  they 
are  of  most  ancient  date  in  the  ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass. 
The  catechumens,  and  all  who  were  prevented  from  assisting 
at  the  sacred  parts  of  the  Mass,  were  allowed  to  wait  until 
the  Epistle  and  Gospel  were  read,  and  the  usual  discourse 
given.  Between  these  a  psalm  was  generally  sung,  our 
Gradual  taking  the  place  of  it ;  or  the  portion  of  a  psalm,  as 
we  have  in  Sundays  of  Lent.  Two  interesting  things  it  is 
well  to  mention  with  regard  to  the  Epistle  and  Gospel. 
Cai^<^inal  Bona  says  : — "A  certain  priest  was  accustomed  to 
say  that  he  daily  attended  two  most  eloquent  and  efficacious 
discourses,  the  Epistle  and  the  Gospel,  and  used  to  listen  to 
them  as  if  Jesus  Christ  and  the  Apostles  were  present  deliver- 
ing them."  The  anonymous  author  of  the  Liturgy  of  the 
Mass  says  :  *'  In  the  ages  of  faith,  at  the  reading  of  the  Gospel, 
the  Knights  of  Malta,  as  also  the  once  gallant  Polish  nobility, 
drew  their  swords  from  the  scabbards, and  stood  in  a  military 
attitude,  thereby  testifying  their  readiness  to  shed  their  blood 
in  defence  of  Christianity." 

The  Creed,  as  it  presently  stands,  cannot  be  of  apostolic 
times.  There  is  no  doubt  about  its  age  ;  the  Council  of 
Nice  was  held  a.d.  325.  At  what  time  it  was  introduced 
into  the  Mass,  or  under  what  circumstances,  we  do  not 
exactly  know.  Two  things  are  probable — first,  that  some 
kind  of  common  form  of  belief  had  been  repeated  either 
customarily  or  occasionally  in  the  early  times;  and  secondly, 
that  this  creed  on  account  of  the  prevailing  Arian  heresy  was 
inserted  to  take  its  place.  There  is  always  great  merit  in 
saying  an  Act  of  Faith,  or  repeating  one  of  the  Creeds.  ''By 
faith  God  requires  of  us  to  humble  our  understandings  to 
His  word,  as  by  our  external  homage  we  humble  our  bodies 
\o  do  Him  reverence,"  says  the  author  of  the  Explanation 


602  History  oj  the  Ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass. 

of  the  Liturgy  of  the  Mass.  "  The  Creed  was  first  brought 
into  the  Mass  in  the  West  by  the  Third  Council  of  Toledo, 
in  589."    (Dr.  Gasquet.) 

At  the  Offertory  we  reach  the  point  where  the  Sacrifice 
really  and  truly  begins. 

"  This  part  of  the  Liturgy  rises  greatly  in  importance  over  the 
preceding.  This  is  properly  the  commencement  of  the  Sacrifice. 
This  is  the  moment  in  which  the  Church  really  begins  to  act,  and 
to  offer  the  victim.  This  may,  in  some  degree,  be  considered  an 
essential  part  of  the  Sacrifice.  The  more  we  approach  the 
essential  act  of  the  Sacrifice,  the  more  interesting  does  the 
matter  become."     (Author  of  the  Liturgy  of  the  Mass.) 

Previous  to  this,  in  the  early  times,  the  catechumens 
and  all  others  who  were  not  allowed  to  assist  at  the  secret 
parts  of  the  Mass,  were  ordered  to  depart.  This  fact  must 
have  made  it  exceedingly  solemn  in  the  eyes  of  those  who 
remained. 

The  act,  which  the  priest  now  performs,  is  as  ancient  as 
the  Church ;  but  the  prayer  (at  least  in  its  present  form) , 
seems  to  be  not  older  than  the  eleventh  or  twelfth  century. 
"  There  were  no  fixed  prayers  at  the  Offertory  until  the 
twelfth  century,  the  priest,  before  then,  making  the  offering 
in  silence."  (Dr.  Gasquet.)  Those  short  but  beautiful 
prayers,  which  the  priest  says  at  the  Offertory,  are  taken 
from  the  missals  used  in  Spain  and  in  Gaul.  "  The  prayer 
In  Spiritu  humilitatis,  is  extracted  from  a  longer  one 
composed  by  Azarias,  one  of  the  Three  Children,  whilst  he 
was  in  the  flames  of  the  Babylonian  furnace."  (Card.  Bona.) 
**  These  oblations  of  bread  and  wine,  the  priest  ought  to 
make  with  all  possible  fervour  and  devotion,  as  if  he  were 
the  only  priest  in  the  whole  world,  and  the  salvation  of  every 
soul  depended  on  that  one  mass."  {Idem.)  The  prayer.  Orate 
fratres,  seems  to  have  been  very  ancient;  and  from  the 
nature  of  the  prayer,  it  is  what  we  might  expect.  The 
answer  given  to  this  prayer  was  different  in  different  places 
and  at  different  times.  In  some  places  the  answer  was — • 
Spiritus  Sanctus  supervenient  in  te,  et  virtus  Altisshni 
obumbrabit  tibi.  In  the  early  times,  the  priest  said  Orate 
fratres,  and  nothing  more,  that  being   deemed   sufficient. 


History  of  the  Ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass.  603 

Later  on,  that  is  towards  the  eighth  century,  the  remainder 
of  the  prayer  was  added,  as  if  for  explanation.  That  most 
hkely  accounts  for  the  priest  saying,  now,  the  words  Orate 
fratres  aloud,  and  the  rest  in  secret.  The  author  of  The 
Liturgy  has  some  beautiful  thoughts  on  this  prayer,  and 
the  accompanying  action  of  the  priest. 

''The  principal  motive  [he  says]  of  the  prayer  Orate  fratres 
is,  that  the  nearer  we  approach  the  moment  of  the  Sacrifice,  the 
more  necessary  do  prayer  and  recollection  become.  The  priest 
will  not  again  turn  round  to  the  people  .  .  .  because  he  is  now 
entering  upon  the  more  solemn  part  of  the  Mass  .  .  .  and  must 
not  henceforth  be  distracted  by  turning  away  from  this  sacred 
object.  When,  therefore,  the  priest  turns  to  the  people  for  the 
last  time  .  .  .  you  may  look  upon  him  as  taking  leave  of  you, 
and  entering  into  the  Holy  of  Holies.  Hitherto  he  has  prayed 
like  one  of  yourselves,  standing  in  the  midst  of  you  .  .  .  but 
now  he  separates  from  the  people  .  .  .  and  Hke  Moses,  leaving 
them  at  the  foot  of  the  mount,  he  ascends  to  converse  with  God 
alone." 

Prefaces  are  of  very  ancient  date,  and  were  always 
variable.  For  one  of  the  prefaces,  that  of  a  Sunday,  we 
have,  of  course,  the  exact  date  given  in  the  missal.  About 
the  time  of  St.  Gregory,  the  prefaces  had  become  so 
multiplied,  that  almost  every  mass  had  a  special  preface,  as 
it  had  a  special  Gospel,  or  a  special  prayer.  That  great 
Pope,  however,  seeing  the  confusion  that  was  arising  from 
this  fact,  reduced  them  to  their  present  number.  ''  It  is  not 
easy  to  determine  when,  and  under  what  influences,  these 
parts  of  the  Mass  had  their  origin  ;  but  many  of  the  collects 
and  prefaces  so  closely  resemble  the  thoughts  and  antithetical 
style  of  St.  Leo,  that  we  can  hardly  be  wrong  in  ascribing 
them  to  him."     (Dr.  Gasquet.) 

The  word  preface  itself  seems  not  to  have  changed  its 
original  meaning : — 

"  The  preface  is  an  introduction  to  the  Sacred  Canon  [says 
the  author  of  The  Liturgy  of  the  Mass,  and  then  he  continues 
most  beautifully]  ;  after  the  Oraie  fratres,  we  beheld  the  priest 
quitting  the  people,  and  entering  the  Holy  of  Holies,  not  to  return 
thence  till  the  mystery  of  our  redemption  should  be  consummated. 
Accordingly,  in  the  Greek  and  Oriental  Churches  a  curtain  is  then 
let  to  fall,  which  divides  the   sanctuary  from  the  body  of  th© 


604  History  of  the  Ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass. 

church  ;  and  in  the  Western  Church,  it  was  formerly  the  custom 
to  close  the  gates  of  the  sanctuary  before  the  preface,  in  order  to 
announce  the  absence  and  separation  of  the  priest  from  the  rest 
of  the  faithful,  while  he  is  wrapt  in  holy  communion  with  God, 
and  honoured  with  His  most  intimate  communications."' 

The  Sursum  Corda,  according  to  St.  Cyprian  {De  Or. 
Bom.,  31),  was  recited  in  his  day,  and  received  the  same 
answer  then  as  now — Hahemus  ad  Dominum.  This  marks 
it  as  being  very  old. 

**  Then  follows  the  preface  [says  Cardinal  Bona],  which  is 
as  it  were  the  prologue  to  the  Sacrifice.  The  Trisagion  contains 
three  songs  of  praise,  and  two  of  petition.  First,  the  sanctity, 
power,  and  supreme  dominion  of  God  are  told  in  the  words  — 
SancUis,  Sanctus,  Sanctus,  Dominus  Deus  Sabbaoth.  Secondly, 
the  glory  which  shines  forth  so  conspicuously  in  so  many  of  His 
creatures  in  heaven  and  on  earth — Pleni  sunt  coeli  et  terra  gloria 
tua.  Third,  Christ  our  Lord  is  magnified  in  the  words — 
Benedictus  qui  venit  in  nomine  Domini.  The  two  petitions  are 
contained  in  the  double  repetition  of  the  words  Hosanna  in 
Excelsis.  This  hymn  therefore  is  placed  before  the  canon,  to 
remind  the  priest  that  he  stands  before  the  throne  of  divine 
Majesty." 

In  the  Canon  of  the  Mass,  we  touch  upon  apostolic  times. 
The  word  canon  signifies  a  law  or  rule  : — 

"  This  part  of  the  Mass  is  called  the  canon  [says  Card.  Bona], 
that  is,  the  rule  which  is  observed  in  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass. 
It  is  composed,  as  the  Council  of  Trent  testifies,  of  the  words  of 
our  Lord,  of  the  traditions  of  the  Apostles,  and  of  the  institutions 
of  the  Soverign  Pontiffs." 

We  have  at  hand  two  ready  means  of  corroborating  the 
antiquity  claimed  for  the  canon.  If  we  look  to  the  names  of 
the  Apostles  and  martyrs  mentioned  in  the  prayer  before  the 
consecration,  we  find  no  names  but  the  names  of  the  Apostles 
and  the  very  early  Popes  and  martyrs ;  -in  the  prayer  after 
the  elevation,  that  contains  the  names  of  the  Apostles  and 
martyrs,  we  find,  again,  none  but  those  who  lived  in  the 
times  of  the  Apostles,  or  immediately  succeeding. 

In  the  first  list  we  find  Peter  and  Paul,  Andrew,  James, 
John,  Thomas,  Philip,  Matthew,  and  (linked  together  where 
one  would  expect  to  find  Simon  and  Jude,  as  on  the  feast 
28th  Oct.)  we  find  Simon  and  Thaddeus  (or  Timothy) ;  then 


History  of  the  Cerevionial  of  Holy  Mass.  605 

the  Popes  Linus,  Cletus,  Clement ;  the  martyrs  Xystus, 
CorneHus,  Cyprian,  Laurence,  Chrysogonus,  John  and  Paul, 
Cosmas  and  Damian. 

In  the  second  list  we  read — with  John  (what  John  this 
is,  I  cannot  say,  whether  it  is  St.  John  the  Evangelist,  or 
John  Mark,  or  some  martyr  ]iamed  John);  with  Stephen, 
Matthias  (evidently  the  Apostle  selected  into  the  place  of 
Judas,  though  here  written  after  Stephen),  Barnabas,  Ignatius, 
Alexander,  Marcellinus,  Peter;  and  the  virgin  martyrs, 
Felicitas,  Perpetua,  Agatha,  Lucy,  Agnes,  Cecily,  Anastasia; 
all  early  saints  and  martyrs. 

If  the  canon  were  of  the  fourth  or  fifth  century,  it  would 
have  the  saints  of  the  third  or  fourth,  in  all  probability. 

Our  second  means  of  corroborating  the  antiquity  claimed 
for  the  canon  is  found  in  the  statements  made  in  the  lives  of 
two  of  the  early  Popes.  Of  St.  Gregory  the  Great,  we 
read: — "  Multa  constituit  .  .  .  ut  adderetur  in  can  one 
diesque  nostros  in  tuae  pace  disponas.''  (Eom.  Brev.,  12th 
March.)  Of  St.  Leo  I.: — "  Statuit,  ut  in  actione  mysterii 
diceretur  sanctum  sacriflcium,  immaculatam  hostiani." 
{Ibid.,  11th  April.) 

The  interpolation  of  St.  Gregory  is  found  in  the  prayer 
Hanc  igitur,  before  the  consecration,  and  refers,  perhaps,  to 
the  disturbances  in  the  Church  from  the  heresies  of  those 
times ;  that  of  St.  Leo  in  the  prayer  Supra  quae,  after  the 
consecration,  and  rounds  off  the  prayer  in  the  style  custo- 
mary with  that  great  writer. 

Now,  if  these  two  phrases  have  been  put  into  these 
prayers,  then  the  prayers  themselves  existed  before  the  times 
of  these  two  Popes;  for,  otherwise  they  could  not  have 
inserted  them. 

"The  Canon  of  the  Mass  must  have  undergone  changes  of 
uncertain  extent  [writes  Dr.  Gasquet]  during  the  first  two  cen- 
turies after  apostohc  times.  By  the  beginning  of  the  fourth 
century  it  must  have  very  nearly  existed  in  its  present  shape 
(pseudo- Ambrose),  and  the  few  alterations  which  St.  Gregory  the 
Great  made  in  it,  left  it  fourteen  hundred  years  ago  the  same  as 
we  have  it  now.'^-^ 

Dublin  Review,  October,  1890. 


606  History  of  the  Ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass. 

^  At  times,  in  the  very  early  ages,  the  canon  itself  was 
shortened,  in  order  to  get  over  the  holy  ceremonies  more 
quickly,  and  thereby  escape  detection.  ''It  is  the  opinion 
of  the  older  liturgiologists  that,  under  stress  of  persecution, 
the  Holy  Sacrifice  was  offered  in  the  early  ages,  loith  merely 
the  words  of  the  Institution  and  the  Lord's  Prayer.''^ 
Nor  is  it  any  derogation  from  its  unchangeableness,  that 
we  find  a  special  Communicantes  for  Christmas,  for  the  Feast 
of  the  Epiphany,  for  Easter,  for  the  Ascension,  and  for 
Pentecost.  Substantially  the  canon  is  the  same,  and  these 
special  prayers  are  only  the  remains  of  the  numerous  ones, 
that  existed  before  Pope  St.  Gregory's  time. 

It  is  to  be  borne  in  mind,  with  regard  to  the  two  memen- 
toes of  the  living  and  of  the  dead,  the  Eoman  rite  is  the 
only  one  that  has  them  separated;  one  before,  and  the  other 
after,  the  consecration.  The  other  rites,  that  is  to  say,  the 
Oriental,  the  Alexandrian,  and  the  Mozarabic,  have  them,  we 
are  told,  after  the  consecration. 

The  Pax,  too,  which  in  the  early  Church  was  instituted 
for  a  twofold  purpose,  to  typify  the  charity  that  existed 
among  the  members  of  the  one  body;  and,  secondly,  as  a 
means  to  recognise  strangers,  had  its  place,  as  its  second 
object  insinuates,  before  the  commencement  of  the  sacred 
mysteries;  and  in  all  the  other  rites  it  holds  that  place  still. 
In  ours,  it  need  not  be  said,  that  its  place  in  Solemn  Mass 
is  immediately  before  the  Holy  Communion,  and  following 
on  the  prayer  Dona  nobis  pacem. 

"With  regard  to  the  elevation  of  the  sacred  elements,  it  is 
to  be  remembered  that  it  was  only  at  the  time  of  Berengarius 
that  the  major  elevation  was  ordered  by  the  Church,  in  order 
that  the  faithful  might  adore  our  Divine  Lord,  who  is  really, 
truly,  and  substantially  present  in  the  sacred  species.  In 
the  Greek  Church  the  earlier  custom,  that  is,  of  a  minor  eleva- 
tion, still  prevails. 

In  the  prayer,  Per  quern  haec  oimiia,  before  the  Pater 
Noster,  the  words  sanctificas,vivifivas,  benedicis,  Sbudpraestas 
nobis,  are  supposed  to  have  referred  originally,  not  to  the 

'  Dr.  Gasquet,  ibid. 


The  Origi7i  of  Plain-Chant.  607 

sacred  species,  but  to  new  fruits  which  were  laid  on  the  altar 
at  the  moment.  Anj^one  reading  over  the  Holy  Thursday 
service,  where  the  bishop  leaves  the  adorable  elements  on 
the  altar,  and  goes  down  to  a  table  to  bless  the  holy  oils, 
will  understand  how  such  things  may,  without  irreverence, 
be  interjected  into  the  sacred  service. 

"  It  seems  from  the  Gelasian  Sacramentary  [says  Dr.  Gas- 
quet],  that  the  words.  Per  quern  haec  omnia  .  .  .  praestas 
nobis,  were  originally  the  end  of  a  benediction  of  the  new  fruits 
of  the  spring.  Many  mediaeval  missals,  too,  direct  that  bread, 
oil,  and  other  things  should  be  blessed  at  this  part  of  the  Mass  ; 
so  that  the  custom  of  doing  so  must  have  long  prevailed.  This 
appears  to  give  the  original  meaning  of  the  words  haec  omnia 
bona  creas,  though  there  is  no  doubt  that  [as  Le  Brun  urges], 
they  are  now  very  fitly  applied  to  the  Blessed  Sacrament."^ 

E.  0.  Kennedy. 
(To  he  continued.) 


THE  OEIGIN  OF  PLAIN-CHANT. 

THEEE  has  never  been  any  period  throughout  the  whole 
history  of  the  human  race  which  has  not  been  in- 
spirited and  enlivened,  solaced  and  consoled,  by  the  harmony 
of  melodious  sounds.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  all  nations, 
much  less  all  individuals,  are  equally  alive  to  the  pleasures 
of  music ;  but  in  some  form  or  other  it  is  acceptable  and 
pleasing,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  to  almost  all  men ;  and 
it  can  safely  be  said,  without  fear  of  contradiction,  that  there 
is  no  more  potent  agency,  in  the  natural  order  of  things, 
to  stir  the  soul  of  man,  to  arouse  him  to  actions  of  a  noble 
or  ignoble  kind,  as  the  case  may  be  ;  to  calm  his  irritation 
or  incite  him  to  fury;  to  inspire  him  with  anger,  love,  pride, 
hatred,  contempt,  and  so  forth,  than  the  magic  power  of 
music.  Such  being  the  case,  the  Church  of  God,  perceiving  it 
to  be  a  most  efficacious  means,  when  rightly  used,  to  raise 

'  Duhlin  Beview,  April,  18.90. 


608  The  Origin  of  Plain-Chant. 

men's  hearts  to  heaven,  has  introduced  into  her  sanctuaries 
music  of  all  kinds,  vocal  and  instrumental,  harmonized  and 
unisonous,  according  to  the  needs  and  necessities  of  the 
times.  But  while  encircling  in  her  wide  embrace  all  kinds  and 
species  of  melody,  there  is  one  dearly  cherished  child  which 
she  presents  to  the  congregation  of  the  faithful  as  her  own, 
which  she  herself  has  tenderly  nurtured  and  brought  to 
perfection  ;  in  other  words,  the  official  music  of  the  Western 
liturgies,  the  so-called  Gregorian  Chant. 

Some  months  ago  I  had  the  pleasure  of  addressing  a  few 
remarks  to  the  readers  of  the  I.  E.  Kecoed,  on  the  subject 
of  Church  song.  I  will  not,  therefore,  weary  them  by 
again  going  over  the  same  ground,  but  will  confine  myself 
to  a  single  point  upon  which  I  did  not  then  touch,  namely, 
from  whence  did  the  Church  obtain  the  musical  idiom 
embodied  in  the  melodies  of  St.  Gregory  ? 

A  very  interesting  and  valuable  treatise,  entitled  Le 
Chant  Gregorien  sa  genese  et  son  developpement,  and  one 
which  throws  a  considerable  light  on  the  above  question, 
has  lately  been  published  by  the  Society  of  St.  John  the 
Evangelist,  Tournay.  We  will,  therefore,  take  as  our  guide 
in  the  inquiry  which  we  are  about  to  make  in  the  following 
pages,  the  learned  author  of  this  work,  Dom  Laurent 
Janssens,  of  St.  Benedict's  Abbey,  Maredsous,  that  stately 
Gothic  pile,  situated  on  one  of  the  oak-crowned  hills  over- 
looking the  valley  of  Montaigle,  in  the  province  of  Namur, 
where  Christian  song  and  Christian  art  has  found  such  a 
congenial  habitation. 

Divinely  invested  with  the  mission  of  restoring  all  things 
in  Christ  ("  instaurare  omnia  in  Christo  "),  the  Church,  the 
lawful  heir  of  all  antique  culture,  appears  to  us,  from  her 
very  origin,  as  setting  forth,  with  a  breadth  of  view  and 
divine  comprehensiveness,  truly  admirable,  to  her  great 
work  of  renovation.  Jealous  of  repelling  anyone  from  her 
bosom,  of  losing  any  of  the  treasure  accumulated  by 
humanity,  she  makes  her  own,  as  much  as  possible,  the 
civilization  of  the  diverse  nations  by  which  she  finds  herself 
surrounded.  She  borrows  from  the  architecture  in  vogue 
the  elements  of  her  temples ;  she  adapts  national  costumes 


The  Origin  of  Plain-Chant.  609 

to  the  exigencies  of  her  worship ;  she  preaches  Christ  in 
the  language  of  Jerusalem,  of  Athens,  and  of  Kome  ;  she 
even  goes  so  far  as  to  combat  the  superstitious  rites  of  an 
idolatrous  worship,  by  liturgical  ceremonies  proper  to 
remedy  the  radical  evil  with  which  they  are  polluted,  while 
preserving  at  the  same  time  all  which  they  contain  of  the 
beautiful  and  the  good. 

Thus,  for  example,  were  instituted  the  Kogations,  and 
the  processions  of  the  25th  of  March  and  of  Candlemas, 
in  order  thereby  to  combat  the  Ambarvalia  in  honour  of 
Ceres,  the  Eobigalia  in  honour  of  Eobigus,  and  the  Lupercalia 
in  honour  of  Pan. 

Faithful  to  the  same  principle,  the  Church  does  not 
hesitate  to  hymn  Jehovah,  Christ,  and  His  Virgin  Mother, 
in  the  same  musical  idiom  which  was  wont  to  re-echo  in 
honour  of  Jupiter,  Apollo,  and  Cybele.  With  words  such  as 
these  Dom  Janssens  closes  the  introduction  to  his  work — 
words  so  concise  and  clear,  clothing  sentiments  so  broad 
and  true,  and  at  the  same  time  so  apt  to  the  present  inquiry, 
that  my  readers  will  pardon  me  for  translating  them  •  in 
extenso,  and  almost  literally. 

It  will,  perhaps,  be  well,  before  going  any  further,  to 
consider  what  was  the  nature  of  this  antique  musical  idiom, 
of  which  Dom  Janssens  speaks,  at  the  epoch  when  the 
Church  thus  assimilated  it  to  herself,  and  made  it  her  own. 
For  ages  the  study  of  ancient  Greek  music  was  neglected 
and  despised.  This  apathy  on  the  part  of  modern  artists  in 
respect  to  the  musical  productions  of  a  race  whose  master- 
pieces in  poetry,  eloquence,  architecture,  sculpture,  and 
painting  have  never  ceased  to  be  the  admiration  of  the 
civilized  world,  was,  doubtless,  to  be  attributed  to  the  dearth 
of  matter  on  which  to  set  to  work,  the  Greek  musical 
compositions  transmitted  to  us  being  both  fragmentary  in 
character,  and  limited  in  number.  Thanks,  however,  to  the 
labours  of  Vincent,  Bellermann,  Hermann,  Boeck,  Eossbach, 
&c.,  all  this  is  a  thing  of  the  past,  and  we  are  at  length 
beginning  to  have  a  more  just  appreciation  of  the  music 
of  the  Hellenes.  Without  taking  count  of  its  archaic 
and  rudimentary  period,  all  record  of  which  is  lost  in  the 
VOL.  XII.  2  Q 


felO  The  Origin  of  Plain-Chant. 

mist  of  ages,  the  history  of  Greek  music  may  be  divided 
into  three  great  epochs  : — 

1.  The  period  of  formation,  embracing  about  three 
hundred  years,  and  extending  from  the  first  Olympiad, 
776  B.C.,  to  the  advent  of  popular  government  at  Athens. 

2.  The  period  of  splendour,  lasting  for  little  over  a 
century  only,  and  ending  with  Alexander. 

3.  The  period  of  decay,  by  far  the  longest  of  the  three, 
bringing  us  down  to  the  final  overthrow  of  Greek  art  under 
Theodosius,  a.d.  394,  and  covering  nearly  seven  hundred 
and  fifty  years. 

We  will,  later  on,  take  a  rapid  glance  at  each  of  these 
periods,  but  before  doing  so  it  may  be  convenient,  to  make 
a  few  general  observations  on  the  modes  and  metres 
employed  by  the  ancient  Greeks,  as  well  as  on  their  method 
of  notation.  With  regard  to  modes  or  fundamental  scales, 
let  it  sufiice  to  call  to  mind,  that  Greek  music  was  enriched 
by  no  less  than  seven,  far  more  essentially  different  one 
from  another  than  the  major  and  minor  modes  of  modern 
music.  Each  scale  began  on  one  of  the  notes  of  the 
octave,  and  was  diatonic,  chromatic,  or  enharmonic,  according 
as  the  tetrachords  which  composed  them  were  made  up  of  two 
tones  and  a  semi-tone,  of ^  a  tone  and  a-half  and  two  semi- 
tones, or  of  an  interval  of  two  tones  and  two  quarter  tones. 

The  enharmonic  system  is  said  to  have  been  invented 
by  Olympus,  and  was  much  in  vogue  during  several 
centuries.  The  fact  that  such  delicately-tinted  music  should 
have  remained  popular  for  so  long,  shows  not  only  the 
extreme  sensitiveness  and  accuracy  of  the  Hellenic  ear,  but 
also  what  skill  and  finesse  the  ancient  Greeks  must  have 
attained  in  the  execution  of  their  melodies.  The  following 
table  gives  the  names  of  the  various  tones,  together  with 
the  notes  on  which  each  scale  began  : — • 

1.  Lydian C. 

'1.  Phrygian D. 

3.  Dorian E. 

4.  Hypolydian F. 

6.  Hypophrygian G. 

6.  Hypodorian A. 

7.  Mixolydian B. 


The  Origin  of  Plai?i- Chant.  611 

Of  these  seven  modes,  the  Dorian  (the  Hellenic  mode 
par  excellence),  the  Phrygian,  and  the  Lydian,  were  con- 
sidered fundamental.  Plato,  however,  only  admits  the  two 
former  in  his  Bepublic.  Thus  much  for  modes  and  scales  : 
now  as  to  metre. 

lu  the  early  days  of  Greek  art,  the  Hellenes  followed  no 
other  rhythm  than  that  of  the  number  of  syllables,  combined 
with  metrical  accent.  But  later  on,  to  this  popular  metre, 
called  ArjfjiOTLKo^,  and  derived  from  the  metre  of  the  Ayrian 
or  Indo-European  tongues,  succeeded  a  more  refined  rhythm, 
called  for  that  reason  7roXtTt/c69,  and  based  on  the  prosodial 
quantity  of  the  syllable. 

Treatises  on  Prosody  tell  us  how,  by  diverse  combinations 
of  long  and  short  syllables,  were  formed  what  were  termed 
feet,  the  Hellenic  equivalent  to  our  bars.  The  short  syllable 
was  taken  as  the  unit,  and  may  be  said  to  correspond  to  the 
crotchet,  while  the  long  syllable  was  regarded  as  being  equal 
to  two  short  syllables.  But  whereas  modern  music  oscillates 
between  tetrapody  or  groups  of  four  bars,  and  infinite  melody, 
without  any  systematic  grouping,  the  Greeks  delighted 
in  all  kinds  of  combinations,  the  feet  being  arranged 
in  groups  or  verses,  the  Sapphic,  the  Asclepiadean,  the 
Hexameter,  and  so  forth,  and  the  verses  thus  formed,  being 
themselves  also,  in  their  turn,  grouped  together  in  diverse 
different  ways.  Thus  arose  that  balanced  disposition  of  the 
various  musical  members,  that  ^'Eurythmie"  to  which  the 
Greek  ear  was  so  sensible  ;  more  so,  perhaps,  than  it  is  even 
possible  for  us,  in  the  present  day,  to  imagine. 

The  few  fragments  of  ancient  music,  whether  Greek  or 
Eoman,  which  still  remain  to  us  are  of  a  didactic  nature, 
in  the  form  of  theoretical  examples,  and  in  these  the 
notation  employed  is  almost  exclusively  alphabetic  ;  but  in 
the  arrangement  of  the  order  in  which  the  letters  were 
placed,  the  Greeks  seem  to  have  had  two  systems.  The 
first  consisted  in  applying  the  series  of  their  letters  to 
the  diverse  strings  of  their  instruments,  in  the  order  of 
their  relative  importance.  This  method  was  used  for  instru- 
mental music.  The  other  system,  which  is  of  more  recent 
date,  and  was  reserved  exclusively  for  vocal  music,  consisted 


Bl2  The  Origin  of  Plain-Chani. 

in  taking  the  letters  in  alphabetical  order,  and  in  thus 
making  them  represent  the  different  diatonic  degrees  of  the 
scale,  while  for  the  non-diatonic  intervals  their  form  or 
position  was  modified. ■■■ 

The  first  period  of  Greek  music  saw  the  birth,  among 
numerous  other  rhythmical  combinations,  of  the  Sapphic 
strophe,  so  common  in  the  hymns  of  the  Church  :  "  Ecce 
surgentes,  Ecce  jam  noctis  "  of  St.  Gregory  the  Great,  for 
example," Ut  queant  laxis, 0  nimis felix,"  and  "Antra  deserti " 
ofPaul  the  Deacon,  *'Iste  confessor,"  and  so  forth:  developed 
the  art  of  playing  stringed  and  wind  instruments,  the  former 
for  the  cultus  of  Apollo,  the  latter  for  that  of  Bacchus  :  created 
various  different  kinds  of  compositions  which  Plato  classifies 
as  hymns  (7/A1/09),  threnes  (dprjvo^),  including  nuptial  and 
funeral  songs,  paeans  {iraidv),  and  dithyrambes  {hiOvpa^^o^)  ; 
and  lastly,  instituted  those  great  musical  contests  which  had 
such  a  vast  influence  on  the  music  of  after  ages,  namely, 
the  Carneia  in  honour  of  Apollo  for  the  lyre,  and  the 
Pythia  of  Delphi  for  wind  instruments. 

It  would  be  tedious  to  enumerate  all  the  great  minstrels 
of  this  epoch  when  poetry  and  music,  hand  in  hand,  found  in 
an  intimate  union  the  secret  of  their  marvellous  force.  But 
we  must  not  omit  to  mention,  alongside  of  the  great  lyric 
poets  Anacreon,  Simonides,  and  Pindar,  and  those  princes 
of  tragedy  ^^schylus,  and  the  divine  Sophocles,  as  Cicero 
calls  him,  the  names  of  two  women  whose  surpassing  merit 
sheds  a  lustre  on  the  age  in  which  they  dwelt — Sappho  of 
Lesbos,  the  rival  of  Alcseus,  and  Corinna  of  Tanagra,  the 
confidential  friend  and  adviser  of  Pindar.  Triumphing  by 
the  might  of  their  genius  over  the  prejudice  of  the  times  in 
which  their  lot  was  cast,  and  breaking  through  the  trammels 
imposed  by  a  society  so  unjust,  and  sometimes  so  cruel,  to 
their  sex,  these  two  musician-poetesses  stand,  as  it  were, 
midway  between  the  prophetesses  of  Israel  and  those  devout 
women  of  the  new  law  whose  sweet  notes  have  from  time  to 
time  re-echoed  throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  Christen- 
dom. On  the  one  hand,  they  recall  from  afar  off  Deborah  and 

"  *  See  Dom  Potliiei's  Les  Melodies  Gregoriennes,  chapter  iii. 


The  Origin  of  Plain-Chant,  613 

Miriam  ;  while,  on  the  other,  they  seem  to  prelude  the  soft 
accents  of  Elpis  and  the  harmonious  charms  of  Hildegard. 

The  second  epoch — that  epoch  which  Plato  wittily  quali- 
fies as  theatrocratic — opens  with  Euripides,  the  successor  of 
Sophocles,  he  whom  Aristotle  calls  the  most  tragic  of  all  the 
poets.  Alongside  of  him  flourished  Aristophanes — that  prince 
of  the  old  comedy,  as  Quintilian  calls  him,  and  the  first 
inventor  of  tetrameters.  These  two  masters  may  be  said  to 
form  the  connecting  link  between  the  first  and  the  second 
period. 

The  music  of  the  age  which  we  are  now  considering  was, 
so  to  speak,  less  austere  than  that  of  the  preceding  epoch. 
Art  began  to  sacrifice  something  of  its  purity,  its  rhythmic 
delicacy,  to  colour,  to  brilliance,  to  passion.  The  tendency 
was  to  mingle  together  in  the  same  composition  various 
metres  and  modes,  and  the  use  of  the  chromatic  scale  became 
more  and  more  common.  Owing  in  great  measure  to  the 
musical  contests  of  the  Odeum  at  Athens,  inaugurated  by 
Pericles,  instrumental  music,  in  the  technique  of  which 
incontestable  progress  had  been  made,  sought  to  enlarge  its 
sphere  of  action,  while  laudable  efforts  were  made — too  often, 
however,  fruitless — for  the  production  of  grander  and  more 
powerful  effects. 

The  music  of  this  period  was  diversely  appreciated  by 
the  best  judges  of  the  day.  Plato,  Pherecrates,  and  Aris- 
tophanes criticize  it  bitterly ;  the  great  comedian,  indeed, 
stigmatizes  the  new  masters  as  executioners  and  torturers 
of  melody;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  Aristotle  and  Aristoxenus 
are  no  less  loud  in  its  praise,  speaking  of  it  with  sympathy  and 
respect.  Whichever  view  was  correct,  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  many  of  the  masters  of  this  epoch  were  artists  of 
eminent  talent,  and  among  these  may  be  cited  Aristoclides, 
Melanippides,  Phrynis,  Timotheus,  called  the  prince  of 
citharists,  Philoxenus,  and  Telestes  of  Selinontus. 

We  have  now  reached  the  third  and  last  period  of 
Greek  musical  art.  The  barren  efforts  made  during  the  second 
epoch  to  enlarge  its  sphere  of  action,  interrupted,  as  it  were, 
its  upward  flight,  and  neither  the  patronage  of  Alexander, 
nor  the  tentatives  of  Aristoxenus  for  its  rehabilitation,  nor 


614  The  Origin  of  Plain-Chant. 

the  conservatoire  of  Teos,  nor  the  powerful  impulse  of  the 
Alexandrian  school,  could  infuse  into  Greek  music  new  life 
and  vigour.  Nevertheless,  it  lingered  on  in  an  enfeebled 
and  semi-moribund  state  until  the  last  celebration  of  the 
Olympic  games,  in  the  tenth  year  of  the  reign  of  Theodosius, 
A.D.  394,  when,  so  far  as  concerns  Greece  itself,  Greek  music 
may  be  said  to  have  died.  Transplanted,  however,  to  Rome, 
where  one  last  and  unsuccessful  effort  was  made  for  its 
restoration,  the  ancient  music,  though  greatly  fallen  from 
its  former  lofty  estate,  still  there  reigned  supreme  when 
Christianity  triumphantly  entered  the  capital  of  the  Caesars. 
■  Such  was  the  music  with  which  the  Church  found  herself 
face  to  face,  when  after  three  centuries  of  bloody  warfare  she 
took  possession  of  Eome.  In  what  measure  did  she  make 
this  antique  art  her  own  ?  What  modifications  did  she  intro- 
duce in  order  to  adapt  it  to  the  exigencies  of  her  liturgy  ? 
These  are  the  questions  to  which  we  are  now  about  to 
turn. 

In  order  to  have  a  just  appreciation  of  what  the  Church 
borrowed  from  Greco-Roman  art,  it  is  most  important  to 
distinguish  clearly  two  elements  in  her  liturgy — to  wit,  the 
text  in  prose,  and  the  text  in  verse.  For  the  latter  she 
adapted  the  measured  rhythm  of  Greco-Roman  music ;  never- 
theless she  made  of  this  no  hard-and-fast  rule,  as  show 
clearly  the  melodies  which  she  employed  later  on  for  the 
"Salve  Sancta  Parens,"  the  "Alma  Redemptoris,"  the 
"  Salve  jubete  Deo,"  the  "  Hie  vir  despiciens,"  and  various 
others,  the  rhythm  of  which  is  oratorical  only,  albeit  the 
texts  themselves  are  hexameters.  It  should  be  further  borne 
in  mind  that  Catholic  hymnody  largely  employed  for  her 
sacred  texts  the  use  of  a  rhythm  based  on  metrical  accent 
only,  that  species  of  verse  which  Horace  speaks  of  as 
Horridus  Satnrnius,  and  which  still  remained  popular  along- 
side the  prosodial  rhythm.  As  to  the  non-measured  portions 
of  the  liturgical  text,  for  them  the  Church  knew  no  other 
than  an  oratorical  rhythm  based  on  accent ;  and  if  we  con- 
sider the  origin  of  Christianity,  and  from  whence  came  by  far 
the  larger  part  of  the  liturgy,  it  seems  clear  that  Jewish  art 
was,  to  a  great  extent,  responsible  for  this  innovation. 


The  Origin  of  Plain-Chant,  615 

The  continual  chanting  of  the  psalms  alone  could  not 
but  have  infused  a  predominant  taste  for  that  free  rhythm 
so  loved  of  the  singers  of  Israel,  and  doubtless  more  than 
one  melodic  cadence  has  passed  from  the  •  synagogue  to  the 
agape  (aydirri) ,  from  the  agape  to  the  catacombs,  and  from 
the  catacombs  to  the  basilica.  But  this  was  not  the  only 
change  which  the  Church  introduced  in  order  to  adapt  the 
music  of  antiquity  to  the  needs  of  her  liturgical  offices. 
Two  other  important  modifications  were  made.  The  first 
of  a  temporary  and  disciplinary  nature  only,  but  which, 
nevertheless,  had  a  marked  influence  on  the  after-develop- 
ment of  the  liturgy,  as  we  shall  see  later  on ;  the  second  of 
a  more  intimate  and  absolute  character. 

The  first  of  these  two  changes  consisted  in  this,  that 
every  form  of  instrumental  music  was  rigidly  excluded  from 
the  sanctuary,  and  the  voice  of  the  faithful  alone — that  living 
harp,  as  Cassiodorus  beautifully  put  it — supplied  the  place  of 
musical  instruments.  Now,  it  was  customary  with  the 
Greeks  and  Romans  to  open  and  close  their  compositions 
with  instrumental  music  without  the  accompaniment  of  the 
human  voice ;  often,  too,  especially  in  hymns  and  choruses, 
little  interludes  would  be  introduced  by  the  orchestra  alone, 
between  the  various  strophes  and  divisions  into  which 
the  composition  was  divided,  and  the  application  of  this 
practice  to  purely  vocal  music  resulted  in  the  introduction 
of  those  antiphons  which  have  ever  since  played  such  an 
important  role  in  the  liturgies  of  the  Catholic  Church. 
Repeated  before  and  after  the  psalm,  and  thus  serving  as  an 
introduction  to  the  tone,  the  antiphon  represented  the 
instrumental  prelude  and  finale  of  Greco-Roman  music. 

When  in  antiphonal  singing  it  became  a  sort  of  refrain 
continually  recurring  throughout  the  psalm  or  canticle, 
examples  of  which  the  Church  still  retains  in  her  liturgy — 
notably  the  "  Invitatorium  "  at  Matins,  and  the  '*  Lumen  ad 
revelationem  gentium"  of  the  feast  of  the  Purification — it 
took  the  place  of  those  instrumental  interludes  in  which  the 
musicians  of  ancient  Greece  and  Rome  delighted  to  show 
their  skill. 

Do  the  jubilations  or  pneumes  in  which  plain-chant 
g^bounds  owe  their  origin  to  the  same  source? 


616  The  Origin  of  Plain-Chant. 

But  to  return  to  our  tlieme,  the  second,  and  perhaps  the 
most  important,  of  the  above-mentioned  modifications,  was 
the  absolute  and  irrevocable  return  to  the  unique  use  of  the 
diatonic  scale.  Gteek  art  had,  as  we  have  seen,  long  ago 
laid  aside  its  pristine  austerity,  and  in  proportion  as  it 
receded  from  its  former  grandeur  and  dignity  the  chromatic 
element  advanced  to  the  fore,  continually  making  further 
and  further  encroachments. 

Long  ere  this  Pherecrates  had  made  music  complain 
"  Melanippides  has  enervated  me,  and  made  me  effeminate," 
while  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  reproaches  the  masters  of 
his  time,  not  only  with  having  mingled  together  all  the 
metres  and  all  the  modes,  but  even  the  diatonic,  the  chro- 
matic, and  the  enharmonic  scales.  But  the  Church  would 
have  nothing  of  this  relaxed  and  enfeebled  style  of  music, 
and  again  taking  up  the  more  healthy  traditions  of  the 
period  anterior  to  Melanippides  returned  to  the  exclusive  use 
of  the  diatonic  system.  But,  after  all,  it  was  not  so  much 
the  changes  and  modifications  which  the  Church  introduced, 
as  the  new  life  which  she  breathed  into  the  dry  bones  of 
Greco-Roman  art ;  that  "  spirituality,"  as  Dom  Janssens 
puts  it,  "  uniting  in  itself  the  burning  zeal  of  the  seers  of  the 
old  law,  and  the  comprehensive  sweetness  of  her  divine 
Founder,"  which  enabled  the  Church  to  utter  those  glorious 
melodies,  so  simple  and  naive,  and  at  the  same  time  so  full  of 
ardour  and  so  entrancing,  that  for  nearly  a  thousand  years 
they  held  Europe  spell-bound  by  the  ravishing  sweetness  of 
their  harmony. 

Thus  purified  from  the  dross  and  corruption  of  centuries, 
ennobled  by  religious  sentiment,  revivified  by  the  life-giving 
breath  of  divine  charity,  the  music  of  Pagan  Eome  and 
Athens  was  at  length  transformed  into  the  chant  of  the 
universal  Church,  and  so  became  the  bond  of  union,  the 
connecting  link  between  the  music  of  antiquity  and  the  music 
of  to-day,  without  which  Greco-Eoman  music  could  never 
have  developed  into  that  majestic  flood  of  harmony  which 
is  the  glory  of  these  latter  ages,  without  which  the  art  of 
Pindar,  of  Euripides,  and  Sappho  could  never  have  engendered 
the  music  of  Bach,  of  Palestrina,  of  Haydn,  of  Mendelssohn, 
of  Wagner  and  of  Liszt,  J".  E.  Gilliat  Smith. 


[    617    ] 


CHUKCHES  IN   THE  EAST. 

THE  history  of  the  Eastern  Church  forms  at  once  some  of 
the  most  briUiant  as  well  as  the  most  saddening  pages 
in  the  general  history  of  Christianity.  The  glories  which 
the  children  of  that  Church  won  for  themselves  by  the  atti- 
tude they  took  during  those  early  days  when  the  faith  they 
professed  was  a  new  and  unknown  faith — a  faith  preached 
not  by  the  ''  wise"  and  "  mighty,"  but  by  twelve  poor 
peasants  from  despised  Galilee,  and  therefore  one  despised 
and  sneered  at  by  the  trained  intellects  of  the  civilized  world 
of  those  days,  can  never  be  forgotten.  What  the  martyrs 
did  at  Eome,  and  wherever  brute  force  endeavoured  to  crush 
out  the  spirit  that  was  breathing  a  new  life  into  a  decaying 
world,  in  order  to  show  the  poor  and  lowly ,  the  slave  as  well 
as  his  master,  that  there  had  come  amongst  men  a  new 
religion  which  recognised  no  distinction  between  Greek  and 
Eoman,  between  the  conquered  and  the  conqueror,  between 
the  slave  and  his  master — that  the  children  of  the  new  faith 
in  the  countries  of  the  East  accomplished  in  the  very  domain 
wherein  paganism  believed  itself  impregnable — i.e.,  learning 
and  science  for  the  great  and  the  wise  of  those  days.  The 
very  wisdom  which  the  trained  intellects  of  Athens  and  of 
Alexandria  believed  to  be  the  heirloom  and  bulwark  of 
paganism,  became  in  the  hands  of  the  neophytes  which  the 
East  gave  unto  Christianity  the  means,  the  arms,  which 
finally  destroyed  paganism.  The  sneers  and  misrepresenta- 
tions of  Celsus,  of  Lucian,  of  Samosata,  of  Porphyrius,  and 
later  on  of  Proclus,  and  of  Julian  the  Apostate,  are  only 
remembered  to-day  by  the  triumphant  refutations  which 
the  Eastern  Church  put  forth  in  support  of  Christianity. 
The  names  of  Clement  of  Alexandria,  of  Origen,  of  Justin 
the  Martyr,  of  Tatian  the  Syrian,  of  Cyril  of  Alexandria, 
and  numberless  others,  are  amongst  the  brightest  stars  in 
the  intellectual  firmament  of  early  Christianity.  Western 
Christianity  has  its  own  great  names,  but  their  sphere 
of  action  can  scarcely  be  said  to  have  lain  in  the  battle 
of  intellect   against   intellect — Christian    sage   against   the 


618  Churches  in  the  East. 

followers  of  Plato,  of  Aristotle,  of  Zeno,  or  of  Epicurus. 
With  the  close  of  the  fifth  century  the  glory  of  the  Eastern 
Church  was  at  an  end.  Whatever  names  appear  in  the 
pages  of  its  history  after  that  period  are  but  faint  reflections 
of  those  of  the  preceding  centuries,  and  are  scarce  remem- 
bered by  the  historian.  They  seem,  as  it  were,  pigmies 
following  in  the  footsteps  of  giants. 

It  is  not  exactly  necessary  for  the  writer  to  point  out  the 
causes  which  led  to  this  great  falling  off,  in  order  to  give  a 
brief  account  of  the  history  of  that  same  Church  ;  nor  would 
the  task  of  doing  so  satisfactorily  be  an  easy  one  for  the 
ecclesiastical  historian.  The  object  of  the  writer  is  rather 
to  give  a  brief  account  of  Christianity  as  it  exists  at  the 
present  day  in  the  East ;  how  it  is  divided  ;  the  number  of 
its  followers ;  its  hierarchy  or  hierarchies,  according  to  the 
number  of  sects  into  which  the  Eastern  Church  has  shivered 
itself  in  the  course  of  ages,  both  by  schism  as  well  as  heresy — ■ 
to  place  all  that  before  the  readers  of  the  I.  E.  Eecoed  ; 
but  the  efforts  which  are  being  made  by  Western  Christianity 
to  bring  back  to  unity  the  separated  branches  of  the  great 
tree  of  Christianity  will  be  treated  of  at  another  time. 

It  is  impossible  at  this  day  to  trace  the  causes  which 
from  the  very  dawn  of  Christianity  seemed  to  divide  the 
Church  of  Christ  into  two  great  bodies,  viz.,  ''East"  and 
^'  West."  What  might  have  seemed  more  probable  and 
likely  was,  that  if  division  there  should  be — not,  indeed, 
as  regards  dogma  or  faith,  but  with  regard  to  matters  of 
liturgy,  &c. — the  Church  should  have  been  divided  into  as 
many  sections  as  there  were  forms  of  liturgy  instituted  and 
practised  by  the  -various  Apostles.  Indeed  it  seems  clear 
that  each  of  the  Twelve  more  or  less  practised  a  liturgy 
different  from  that  of  the  others.  Traces  of  such  liturgies 
exist  even  to  the  present  day  in  the  practices  of  Churches 
which  date  their  primitive  founding  back  to  the  apostolic 
age;  and  the  liturgies  which  exist  both  within  as  well  as 
without  the  Catholic  Churchy-e^en  at  the  present  day,  are 
ascribed  by  all  to  one  Qi!^SS«£^^^e  Apostles.  However, 
this  apparently  natura/J?nvision\'Athe  Christian  Church 
became,   in    the    courpl[^fBBi4i§^,l  jij  matter   of  secondary 


Churches  in  the  East,  619 

importance,  compared  with  that  great  division  of  East 
and  West.  Notwithstanding  the  very  great  importance 
to  be  attributed  to  the  primacy  bestowed  by  Christ  Himself 
upon  Peter,  and  for  that  reason  naturally  communicated 
by  the  latter  to  the  Church  which  he  personally 
founded,  i.e.,  the  Church  of  Eome,  still  it  would  be  far 
easier  to  account  for  the  division  of  the  Church  into 
these  great  bodies,  by  the  distinguishing  characteristics 
marking  off  the  children  of  the  West  from  those  of  all 
the  Churches  of  the  East.  Even  this  is  unmistakably 
clear  in  the  men  whom  both  East  and  West  pro- 
duced, during  the  first  couple  of  centuries,  in  defence  of 
the  common  faith  of  both.  At  any  rate,  even  without  those 
distinguishing  traits  of  the  people  which  both  East  and 
West  gathered  into  each  other,  the  increasing  greatness, 
the  vastness  of  the  countries  where  the  banner  of  Imperial 
Eome  floated,  as  well  as  the  fervent  zeal  of  her  missionaries, 
made  the  Church  of  Peter  completely  overshadow  any 
single  Church  founded  by  a  single  Apostle  ;  hence,  in  course 
of  time,  she  became  not  merely  a  part  of  the  Christian 
Church,  but  the  half,  the  more  important  half.  Whilst  the 
various  Churches  in  the  East  were  scarcely  able  to 
plant  the  banner  of  the  Crucified  beyond  the  frontier  of 
the  Roman  Empire  in  Asia  Minor,  Christian  missions  were 
beginning  to  flourish  in  countries  in  the  West,  where 
the  banner  of  Imperial  Rome  was  unknown.  Indeed  the 
words  of  TertuUian,  sanguis  Martyrum,  semen  Christian- 
orum,  seems  to  be  applicable  to  the  missions  founded  by  the 
Church  of  Rome.  Persecution  in  the  Eastern  Churches 
crushed  rather  than  helped  to  propagate  the  new  faith. 
And  a  mere  glance  at  the  facts  which  both  present,  even  in 
our  day,  would  make  the  statement  but  the  clearer. 
Wherever  Rome's  missionaries  went,  wherever  they 
preached,  the  faith  that  sprang  up  in  the  hearts  of  their 
hearers  was  such  that  it  crushed  out  for  ever  every  trace  of 
the  old  religion.  The  Druidism  of  the  Celts  is  but  a  name ; 
its  very  tenets  and  practices  being  now  forgotten.  The 
exact  contrary  happened  in  the  East,  and  to-day  the 
traveller  can  come  across  vestiges  of  creeds  that  to  European 
minds  died  out  centuries  ago. 


620  Churches  in  the  East. 

This  distinctioD  of  East  and  West  can  scarcely  be 
said  to  have  been  well-defined  before  the  middle,  or 
rather  the  close,  of  the  fourth  century.  Each  particular 
Church,  following  its  own  liturgy,  having  its  own  peculiar 
rights  and  practices,  was  far  too  weak  to  make  its  influence 
felt  as  a  factor  in  the  world  of  Christendom,  especially  when 
in  contrast  with  the  increasing  importance  of  the  Latin  or 
Western  Church.  There  was  no  one  among  the  several 
Churches^  in  the  East  capable  of  leading  the  others, 
especially  as  a  kind  of  barrier  against  what  seemed  even 
probable  in  the  Latinizing  of  all  Christendom.  So  the 
moment  had  scarcely  arrived  for  such  a  union  ere  the  East 
possessed  a  city  which  should  rival  Kome,  The  founding  of 
Constantinople  decided  the  matter :  and  the  historian  is 
hardly  at  a  loss  to  account  for  the  unanimity  with  which 
the  prelates  of  the  entire  East  who  met  at  the  second 
CEcumenical  Council,  held  in  the  "NewBome,"  decided 
upon  raising  that  city  to  a  rank  that  would  place  it  on  a 
level  with  that  of  the  capital  of  the  Western  Empire,  and 
make  its  patriarchs  representatives  of  the  entire  Eastern 
Church.  Notwithstanding  the  rejection  of  the  fourteenth  ^ 
canon  of  that  Council,  in  which  it  was  decreed  that,  "  the 
Bishop  of  Constantinople  shall  take  his  rank  next  to  the 
Bishop  of  Borne  " — notwithstanding  the  rejection  of  that 
canon  by  the  entire  Western  Church,  and  its  formal 
rejection  a  second  time  when  again  inserted  in  the  decrees 
published  by  the  fourth  (Ecumenical  Council,  held  at 
Chalcedon  (451),  by  Leo  the  Great,  to  whom  the  decrees  of 
that  Council  were  brought  for  confirmation,  ^  it  was  quite 
clear  to  all  that  sooner  or  later  the  East   would — at  least 


i  Though  the  term  Eastern  Church  is  oftentimes  used  to  denote  the 
entire  body  of  Christians  living  in  the  East,  and  in  liturgy  differing 
from  those  in  the  West,  so  used,  however,  it  is  vague.  For  not  one 
"  Church"  alone,  as  the  term  is  used  in  these  pages — i.e.^  a  nation  or  body 
of  Christians  having  a  liturgy  peculiarly  their  own — but  many  "  Churches  " 
existed  there  from  the  beginning  ;  though  it  is  true  that  in  the  course  of 
time  the  Patriarchate  of  Constantinople  arrogated  to  itself,  and  to  all 
usijig  its  liturgy,  the  exclusive  title  of  the  "  Eastern  Church." 

2  Canon  iii.,  is  also  to  the  same  eifect.  Confer.  Alzog,  Church 
Ilisfori/,  vol.  i.,  pp.  385,  427,  and  465  ;  also  Harcluin,  i.,  ii. 

2  Confer.  Alzog,  iit  supra. 


Churches  in  the  East.  621 

in  rivalry  with  the  "West — be  united  under  the  leadership 
of  the  patriarchs  of  Constantinople.  Events,  however, 
were  then  taking  place  in  the  East  which  rendered  the 
aimed-at  leadership  more  or  less  nugatory.  Both  Arianism 
and  semi-Arianism,  though  hngering  in  many  parts  of 
Christendom  during  the  fifth  century,  may  be  said  to  have 
been  practically  swept  aw^ay  at  the  close  of  the  fourth 
century.  The  embers,  however,  remained,  and  unfortunately, 
were  sufficiently  warm  to  arouse  the  zeal  of  the  East  in  the 
intellectual  combats  that  were  being  still  thereupon  held.  It 
was,  in  fact,  the  disputes  which  arose  out  of  the  lingering 
embers  of  that  heresy  that  rent  the  Eastern  Church  into 
these  factions  which  it  is  divided  into,  even  to  the  present 
hour,  and  which  finally  crushed  out  every  vestige  of  the 
heresy  that  logically  was  parent  to  those  that  arose  in 
opposition  to  it. 

The  first  tokens  of  a  real  split  occurring  in  the  Eastern 
Church  are  met  with  during  the  early  part  of  the  fifth 
century.  This  was  the  heresy  and  schism  of  Nestorius. 
Educated  in  the  famed  theological  school  of  Antioch — a  school 
whose  principles  were  in  a  great  measure  untrammelled 
with  these  of  the  Neo-Platonism  of  the  Alexandrian — the 
active  mind  of  Nestorius  instantly  saw  in  the  Arian  heresy 
the  fruit  of  the  allegorizing  exegesis  of  the  Alexandrians,  as 
well  as  the  utterly  inadequate  idea  of  the  Incarnation  or 
Eedemption  presented  by  that  theory.  He,  therefore,  began 
to  construct  a  new  one  that  would,  as  he  believed,  fully 
explain  the  matter ;  and  in  this  attempt  went  to  the  exact 
opposite  of  the  other.  Arianism  was  destructive;  the  new 
theory  constructive.  Arianism  defined  what  Christ  was  not ; 
Nestorianism  attempted  to  explain  what  He  was.  Perhaps 
for  this  reason  the  followers  of  Nestorius  have  been  able  to 
hold  together  as  a  Church  even  to  the  present  day. 

Nestorianism,  as  is  well  known,  was  condemned  by  the 

Council  of  Ephesus  (431)  ;  but  it  did  not  decrease  on  that 

account.     It  was  taken  up  and  defended  by  some  of  the 

leading  minds  of  the  theological  school  of  Antioch  ;  ^  and  it 

^  This  theological  school  was  founded  by  Lucian,  a  priest  of  Antioch, 
towards  tlie  close  of  the  third  century.  Its  object  was  to  free  Biblical 
exegesis  from  the  allegorizing  method  of  the  Alexandrian  School.  Conf, 
Alzog,  vol.  i.,  page  270. 


622  Churches  m  the  Bast. 

appears  that  the  heresy  went  eastwards,  and  was  largely 
embraced  by  the  Christians  in  Mesopotamia,  Persia,  and 
along  the  confines  of  the  Chinese  Empire.  It  appears  that, 
according  to  old  traditions,  St.  Thomas  the  Apostle  preached 
the  Gospel  in  all  these  countries  ;  hence  the  Christians 
therein  called  themselves  Christians  of  St.  Thomas,  and 
had,  as  they  have  to-day,  a  very  ancient  liturgy  attributed 
by  them  to  the  Apostle.  They  are  also  called  Chaldeans, 
because  their  head-quarters  have  always  been  in  Chaldea  or 
modern  Mesopotamia.  At  the  present  day  they  are  far  from 
being  the  important  sect  they  once  were.  They  are  to  be 
found  only  in  small  numbers,  principally  in  Southern 
Armenia  and  along  the  western  frontier  of  Persia.  They 
are,  however,  to  be  met  with  in  a  few  cities  in  Syria ;  but 
elsewhere,  in  Asia  Minor  and  Palestine,  they  are  nowhere 
numerous  enough  to  form  even  a  small  community.  Like 
all  other  ancient  Churches  having  a  particular  liturgy,  they 
are,  at  present,  divided  into  two  classes.  Some  of  them 
have  renounced  their  errors,  and  are  in  union  with  the 
Catholic  Church.  In  the  East  these  latter  arrogate  to  them- 
selves exclusively  the  title  Chaldeans,  and  call  their  quondam 
co-religionists  simply  Nestorians.  Both  bodies  are  ruled  by 
their  respective  patriarchs,  each  calling  himself  patriarch  of 
Ctesiphon  and  Babylon.  Both  reside  at  Mosul.  The 
Catholic,  or  united  section,  have  also  an  archbishop  at 
Diarbekir  in  Kurdistan,  besides  a  few  bishops,  whose  titles 
are  rather  honorary  than  effective.  The  entire  number  of 
Catholic  Chaldeans  can  scarcely  be  said  to  surpass  the 
number  of  10,000,  and  of  the  Nestorian  Chaldeans  it  is 
rather  exaggeration  than  the  opposite  to  put  their  number  at 
100,000.^  Such,  then,  is  alljthat  now  remains  of  a  Church  whose 
children  in  former  times  spread  themselves  over  the  entire 
continent  of  Asia,  preaching  the  Gospel  in  the  wilds  of 
Tibet,  and  even  in  the  interior  of  the  Chinese  Empire. 

The  heresy  of  Nestorius  had  scarcely  sprung  into  exist- 
ence when    it    found    opponents    equally   daring,    equally 

'  Confer.    Condition  of  the  Population  of  Asia  Minor  and  6'^na,  published 
by  Her  Majesty's  Government,  1881. 


Churches  in  the  East.  B23 

courageotls  in  their  attacks  upon  it,  as  had  been  Nestorius 
himself  in  his  opposition  to  everything  that  had  the  appear- 
ance of  Arianism.  Throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of 
the  entire  East,  Nestorianism  found  opposition.  The  fight, 
however,  was  entered  into  in  real  earnest  by  a  monk  of 
Constantinople,  named  Eutyches.  Equally  intent  upon  a 
constructive  theory  as  regards  the  nature  of  Christ,  as  was 
Nestorius,  against  whom  he  now  led  off  the  fight,  he  boldly 
advanced  the  principle,  that  if  the  teaching  of  Nestorius,  who 
would  deny  the  divine  nature  of  the  Son  of  Mary,  be  false, 
it  necessarily  follows  that,  as  it  is  prohibited  to  admit  two 
Christs,  there  can  be  only  "  one  "  in  every  sense ;  and,  con- 
sequently, the  Flesh  which  the  Godhead  assumed  in  the 
Womb  of  Mary  became  a  part,  so  to  speak,  of  the  Divine 
Essence.     Hence  the  name  of  Monophy sites. 

It  is  remarkable  to  consider  the  rapidity  with  which  this 
theory  spread  throughout  the  East.  It  was  quite  natural 
that  the  teaching  should  find  advocates  in  the  theological 
school^  of  Alexandria  ;  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  patriarch 
Dioscorus,  who  succeeded  St.  Cyril  in  that  see  (444)  became 
one  of  its  most  strenuous  advocates,  and  by  his  influence  it 
spread  throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  Egypt.  It  is 
easy  to  explain  how  this  new  theory  should  have  found 
advocates  in  Alexandria.  The  Neo-Platonism  of  the  Alex- 
andrian School  was  always  inclined  to  the  doctrine  of 
''Emanation" — a  doctrine  that  was  essentially  pantheistic 
in  its  tendencies.  And  if  Monophy sitism  may  seem,  at  first 
sight,  the  extreme  opposite  of  Arianism,  it  is,  in  very  truth, 
an  equally  just  conclusion  drawn  from  the  same  equally  false 
principle. 

The  heresy  was  likewise  spread  in  Palestine^  by  agents  of 

1  This  celebrated  school  owes  its  origin  to  Pantsenus  (flor.  180),  who 
had  been  converted  from  paganism.  As  the  greater  number  of  its  iirst 
adherents,  previous  to  their  conversion,  had  been  trained  up  in  the 
prmciples  of  Neo-Platonism — especially  its  second  master,  Clemeus 
Alexandrinus  (ohit.  217) — the  whole  tendency  of  its  principles  was  to 
harmonize  the  philosophy  of  Greece  with  Christianity,  and  thus  facilitate 
the  conversion  of  those  imbued  with  the  principles  of  the  philosophy  of 
Greece.     (Alzog,  vol.  i.,  page  260.) 

2  Confer.  Leontii,  Hierosolijmit.  (  mtr.  Alonophyslt.,  in  Gallandus^  torn, 
xii.  J  also  Alzog,  vol.  i.,  Universal  Church  Uistory,  pp.  428,  &c. 


624  Churches  in  the  ^ast. 

the  Alexandrian  School,  and  in  a  short  time  the  whole  of  the 
country  seemed  to  be  infected  with  Monophysite  principles. 
From  Syria  Eutychianism  spread  to  Armenia,  and  so  great 
was  the  torrent  that  the  efforts  of  the  Comicil  of  Chalcedon 
(451)  were  able  to  produce  but  little  reaction.  In  Syria, 
however,  as  will  be  seen  later  on,  a  reaction  did  take  place ; 
but,  unfortunately,  to  be  followed  by  a  movement  that  gave 
a  stability  to  the  Monophysites  there  that  has  enabled  their 
Church  to  exist  even  to  to-day.  Such  then  was  the  field  in 
which  the  Monophysite  heresy  had  been  sown  during  the 
fifth  century,  and  ever  since  then  it  has  retained  its  primitive 
limits.  There  were,  therefore,  three  distinct  races  as 
well  as  liturgies,  or  rather  Churches  having  distinct 
liturgies,  contaminated  with  Monophysitism,  viz.,  the 
Armenian  Church,  the  Church  of  Syria,  and  that  of  old 
Egypt. ^  The  Armenians,  according  to  their  own  tradi- 
tions, were  converted  to  Christianity  by  the  preaching  of 
St.  Thaddeus,  to  whom  they  ascribe  their  present  liturgy. 
This  liturgy  was,  however,  somewhat  modified  by  St.  Basil 
(329-379) ;  and  it  is  in  this  modified  form  that  it  is  used  at 
the  present  day.  However,  the  one  of  all  others  who 
laboured  most  effectually  in  the  conversion  of  Armenia  was 
St.  Gregory  the  Illuminator  (fl.  320),  and  to  this  day  the 
greater  part  of  the  Armenians  go  by  the  name  of  '' Grego- 
rians."  Century  after  century  various  attempts  were  mutually 
made  by  the  "Western  Church  as  well  as  by  the  Armenian 
towards  a  re-union ;  but  the  effects  were  but  transient.  At 
the  Council  of  Lyons  (1274)  a  union  was  effected  with  the 
Western  Church  through  the  influence  of  some  of  their 
bishops  as  well  as  their  king.  The  kingdom  of  Armenia  was 
utterly  destroyed  ere  the  close  of  the  fourteenth  century  by 
the  Tartars,  and  after  them  by  the  Osmanlis;  and  their 
exiled  king,  the  last  of  his  race,  Leo  de  Lusignan,  died  at 
Paris,  1393. 


^  Cliristiauity  was  introduced  into  Egypt  by  St,  Mark,  who  gave  the 
Church  its  liturgy.  This  liturgy  was  afterwards  superseded  in  the  See  of 
Alexandria  by  that  of  Constantinople  ;  but  the  majority  of  the  Egyptians 
clung  to  the  old  liturgy.  They  still  go  by  the  name  of  Copts,  which  was 
their  former  title. 


Churches  in  the  East.  625 

The  Eutychian  Armenians  number  in  all  Asia  Minor 
about  4,000,000.  Those  who  are  in  union  with  the  Catholic 
Church,  or  the  Catholic  Armenians,  may  number  about 
300,000.  The  number  given  by  his  Eminence  the  late 
Cardinal  Hassoun,  in  reply  to  the  British  Government,^ 
would  place  the  number  of  these  latter,  in  the  vilayets  of 
Van,  Diarbekir,  Kharpoot,  where  they  number  most,  at 
60,000.  Probably,  including  all  Asia  Minor,  they  number 
near  800,000.  The  Eutychian  Armenians  are  governed  by 
three  patriarchs,  and  two  catholicos,  or  archbishops.  The 
patriarchates  are  Jerusalem,  Constantinople,  and  Sis  in 
Cilicia.  There  are  about  fifty  episcopal  sees,  the  principal 
being  in  Armenia,  and  a  few  in  Syria.  The  Catholic 
Armenians  have  but  one  patriarch,  who  continually  resides 
at  Constantinople.  There  is  an  archbishop  resident  at 
Diarbekir;  and  bishoprics  at  Yusgat,  Broussa,  Trebizond, 
Adana,  Erzeroum,  and  a  few  other  places,  besides  Aleppo,  in 
Syria. 

Another  Church  which  had  become  infected  with  the 
heresy  of  Eutyches  was  that  of  Syria.  This  Church,  though 
in  a  great  measure  separated  from  the  Church  of  Christen- 
dom, ranks  as  one  of  the  oldest  and  most  venerable  in 
history.  Founded  by  St.  James  the  Less,  to  whom,  accord- 
ing to  well-authenticated  traditions,  is  due  its  liturgy,  it 
ranked  during  the  first  few  centuries  as  one  of  the  most 
influential  in  Christendom.  Within  its  confines  were  the 
famous  theological  schools  of  Caesarea — this  latter  founded 
by  Origen  himself,  and  of  Antioch.  Its  glory  was,  however, 
destined  to  fade  away  when  the  germs  of  Monophysitism 
had  begun  to  eat  into  its  very  heart.  For  nigh  a  century 
after  the  breaking  out  of  the  Eutychian  heresy,  the  Syrian 
Church  presented  but  one  continued  scene  of  violence,  both 
friend  as  well  as  foe  of  Monophysitism  resolving  to  remain 
within  the  CathoHc  Church.  The  fifth  CEcumenical  Council, 
held  at  Constantinople  (553),  drove  the  Monophysites  farther 
than  ever  beyond  the  pale  of  Catholicity;  and  it  was  at  this 

^  Confer.  Condition  of  Population  of  Asia  Mi.wr,  published  by  Her 
Majesty's  Government.     London,  1881.     Page  99. 

VOL.  XII.  2  R 


:626  Churches  in  the  East. 

very  time  that  Jacob  Baradai/  who,  when  a  monk  at  Antioch, 
had  been  driven  from  there  on  account  of  his  adhesion  to  the 
heresy,  and  at  this  time  through  intrigue  had  been  made 
bishop  of  Edessa,  left  his  diocese,  and  preaching  Monophy- 
sitism  in  Syria,  Armenia,  and  Egypt,  sought  to  unite  all  the 
followers  of  Eutyches  in  one  body.  He  succeeded,  however, 
in  establishing  the  apostate  Syrian  Church  on  a  firm  basis. 
From  him  the  Syrian  Eutychians  are,  in  the  East,  called 
even  now  Jacobites. 

As  with  the  Armenians,  attempts  have  been  made  at 
various  times  to  win  the  Syrian  Church  back  to  unity;  but 
the  results  that  arose  from  such  attempts  were  always  tran- 
sitory ;  and  at  present  the  great  majority  of  the  Syrians  are 
separated  from  the  Catholic  Church.  The  only  places  outside 
Syria  and  Palestine — in  fact,  Asia  Minor — where  Jacobites 
are  at  present  to  be  found  are  Malabar,  alongside  S.W.  coast 
of  Hindostan,  and  the  island  of  Ceylon,  in  both  of  which 
small  congregations  are  still  in  existence,  though  their  entire 
number  scarcely  reach  20,000.  These  are  also  quite  inde- 
pendent of  the  Syrian  Jacobites,  from  whom  they  are 
descended.  The  entire  number  of  Jacobites  in  Asia  Minor 
scarcely  reach  100,000.^  The  Catholic  part  of  the  Syrian 
Church  is  equally  unimportant,  and  its  numbers  may  pos- 
sihly  reach  30,000.^  The  liturgy  of  both  branches  of  the 
Syrian  Church  is  the  same,  it  being  in  old  Syriac.  As 
regards  hierarchy  or  Church  government,  both  have  as  their 
respective  spiritual  heads  a  patriarch  of  Antioch.  The 
Jacobite  patriarch  generally  resides  in  a  monastery  near 
Mardin,  a  city  some  miles  from  Diarbekir.  The  Jacobites, 
moreover,  have  an  archbishop  at  Mosul,  and  bishops  in 
Damascus  and  Diarbekir,  as  well  as  in  a  few  other  places  in 
Asia  Minor. 


1  Confer.  Assemani,/'  Dissert,  de  Syris  Jacobit.,"  in  Bihliothec.  Oriental., 
torn.  iii. 

2  Vide  Condition  of  ilie  Population  of  Asia  Minor  and  *S'?/?7a,  published  by 
Her  Majesty's  Government.  London,  1881.  Numberthere  given  as  being  in 
vilayet  of  Kurdistan  is  12,000.  Other  vilayets  contain  each  a  few  thousand. 
By  counting  females,  100,000  may  be  found  in  all  Asia  Minor. 

'  Vide  Ecclesiastical  Gazette.  Vienna,  1853.  N.B. — All  statistics  about 
population  in  Turkey  are,  at  most,  merely  approximative. 


Churches  m  the  East.  627 

The  patriarch  of  the  Cathohc  Syrians  resides  in  Aleppo, 
and  these  latter  have  likewise  bishoprics  with  small  congre- 
gations in  Mardin,  Damascus,  Diarbekir,  and  Mosul.  There 
are  likewise  a  few  communities  of  Catholic  Syrians  in 
Malabar,  and  these  recognise  the  spiritual  jurisdiction  of  the 
Catholic  Syrian  patriarch  of  Asia  Minor.  Another  section 
of  the  Monophysite  Church  is  that  of  the  Copts,^  with 
whom  on  account  of  similarity  of  dogma  and  liturgy,  as  well 
by  reason  of  an  intermingling  of  the  two,  are  classed  the 
Abyssinian  Christians. 

The  Copts,  who  appear  to  be  the  lineal  descendants  of 
the  old  Egyptians,  owe  their  conversion  to  Christianity  to 
St,  Mark,  who  was  the  first  bishop  in  the  patriarchal  See  of 
Alexandria,  and  gave  to  the  Coptic  Church  its  liturgy.  The 
estabhshment  of  the  celebrated  theological  school  in  the 
City  of  Alexandria,  in  a  great  measure  weakened  the  Coptic 
or  native  element  there  in  favour  of  the  Greek ;  so  much  so, 
that,  upon  the  breaking  out  of  the  Monophysite  heresy,  the 
two  divided  both  with  regard  to  dogma  and  liturgy. 
St.  Cyril  of  Alexandria  {ohit.  441)  at  the  moment  of  the 
breaking  out  in  his  See  of  the  new  heresy,  introduced  there, 
in  order  to  bring  about  a  closer  union  of  the  Catholic  part 
of  the  Eastern  Church  as  opposed  to  the  growing  factions, 
the  liturgy  of  the  Church  of  Constantinople,  or  that  of  the 
so-called  Greek  Church.  The  same  happened  in  the  patri- 
archal Sees  of  Jerusalem  and  Antioch.  The  Monophysite 
Copts,  however,  held  to  the  old  hturgy.  These  Copts,  even 
to  the  present  day,  call  themselves  Jacobites,  after  Jacob 
Baradai,  though  this  title  is  pre-eminently  given  to  the 
Monophysites  of  the  Syrian  Church.  The  Copts,  at  the 
present  day,  are  by  no  means  numerous  ;  though,  throughout 
all  Egypt,  almost  every  town  contains  a  small  community 
of  them.  They  may  number  about  100,000 ;  some,  how- 
ever, state  that  they  reach  200,000.  This  is  hardly  probable, 
or  includes  many  who  should  not  be  classed  with  the  Copts. 
About  six  or  eight  thousand  are  called  United  Copts ;  these 


'  Coiifer.    Historia  Coptor.  Cltrhtlaa.^  Arabice  et  Latine  rcripta.     Ed. 
Wetter.     Salzburg,  1828. 


628  Churches  in  the  East. 

being  in  union  with  the  Cathohc  Church,  and  have  given  up 
all  opinions  contrary  to  Catholic  teaching.  They  retain, 
however,  the  old  Coptic  liturgy.  The  patriarch  of  the 
Monophysite  Copts  takes  his  title  from  Alexandria,  yet 
resides  near  Cairo.  He  appoints  the  Abouna  or  Spiritual 
Head  of  the  Abyssinian  Church. 

The  Catholic  Copts  have  but  one  bishopric,  embracing 
all  Egypt.  The  office  is  now  vacant,  and  the  Cathohc 
Copts  are  governed  by  a  Prefect  Apostolic,  the  Rev.  Fr. 
Zenebie,  O.S.F.,  who  resides  at  Cairo. 

The  only  section  of  the  Eastern  Church  that  embraced 
for  any  length  of  time  the  heresy  of  Monothelism — which  is 
really  but  a  modified  form  of  Monophysitism — was  the 
Maronite.  In  a  certain  sense  the  Monothelite  heresy  caused 
more  disturbance  in  the  Christian  Church  than  either 
Nestorianism  or  Eutychianism,  and  during  its  ferment 
the  world  saw  the  strange  sight  of  Imperial  decrees  on 
dogma !  However,  before  the  close  of  the  seventh  century 
the  sole  adherents  of  Monothelism  were  to  be  found  in  the 
wilds  of  the  Lebanon.  The  origin  of  the  name  Maronite 
is  variously  explained ;  the  Maronites  themselves  deriving 
it  from  a  St.  Maro  who  lived  in  the  Lebanon  during  the 
latter  part  of  the  fifth  century.  At  the  time  when  the 
Crusaders  had  penetrated  into  the  plains  of  Syria,  a  move- 
ment towards  unity  with  the  Western  Church  took  place 
among  the  Maronites.  Difficulties  arose  at  the  time,  and 
the  union  was  not  immediately  effected.  Latin  monks  from 
Jerusalem  went  amongst  them  from  time  to  time,  and  the 
complete  return  of  the  Maronite  Church  and  nation  was 
effected  at  the  Council  of  Florence.  From  that  day  to  the 
present  the  Maronites  have  never  wavered  in  their  allegiance 
to  Rome.  Their  liturgy  is  almost  identical  with  that  of  the 
Syrian  Church.  They  use  azyme,  however,  and  do  not,  like 
the  Greeks,  administer  the  chalice. 

The  hierarchy  of  the  Maronite  Church  consists  of  a 
patriarch  who  lives  at  Kasruan  in  the  Lebanon,  and  not  far 
from  Beyrout,  and  several  bishoprics.  The  principal  of  these, 
besides  a  number  of  village  dioceses  in  the  Lebanon,  are 
Beyrout,  Damascus,  Cyprus,  and  Aleppo.   A  peculiar  feature 


The  Blessed  Ed7?iund  Campion's  "  History  of  Ireland,''  dec.  629 

of  the  Maronite  Church,  is,  that  amongst  all  the  sections  of 
the  Eastern  Church  in  uinon  with  the  Catholic  Church  of 
the  West,  it  is  at  present  the  sole  one  where  the  practice  of 
a  celibate  clergy  is  not  strictly  in  force  ;  however,  of  late,  a 
strong  tendency  in  that  direction  is  quite  apparent,  and 
probably  ere  long  a  non-celebate  clergy,  even  among  the 
Maronites,  will  be  a  thing  of  the  past. 

Such,  then,  were  the  Churches  which  had  severed  them- 
selves from  the  Church  of  the  East  ere  the  close  of  the 
seventh  century.  The  patriarchate  of  Constantinople,  which 
for  centuries  had  been  aspiring  to  a  supremacy  over  the 
East  equal  to  that  which  the  Church  of  Eome  enjoyed  over 
all  Europe,  at  length  saw  that  hoped-far  supremacy  rejected 
by  half  the  East,  and  its  authority  recognised  only  where 
its  liturgy  had  been,  in  the  course  of  time,  introduced. 

J.  L.  Lynch,  O.S.F. 
{To  he  continued.) 


THE  BLESSED  EDMUND  CAMPION'S   ''HISTOEY 
OF  lEELAND  "  AND  ITS  CEITICS. 

WHILE  the  blessed  Edmund  Campion  was  compiling 
his  History  of  Ireland,  in  1571,  he  wrote  a  letter 
from  Trowey,  near  Dublin,  on  the  19th  March,  to  James 
Stanihurst,  the  worshipful  Eecorder  of  Dublin.     In  it  he 

says : — 

"  Great  is  the  fruit  which  I  gather  both  from  your  affection 
and  esteem  ;  from  your  affection,  that  in  these  hard  days  you  are 
as  careful  of  me  as  if  I  had  sprung,  like  Minerva  from  Jupiter,  out 
of  your  head ;  from  your  esteem,  because,  when  I  was  well-nigh 
turned  out  from  house  and  home,  you  considered  me  worthy  not 
only  of  your  hospitality  but  of  your  love  ...  It  was  your 
generosity  and  goodness  to  receive  a  stranger  and  foreigner  into 
your  house  ;  to  keep  me  all  these  months  on  the  fat  of  the  land  ; 
to  look  after  my  health  as  carefully  as  after  that  of  your  son 
Eichard  ^  who   deserves  all  your  love ;  to  furnish  me  with  all 

1  Richard  was  the  father  of  two  Jesuits, William  and  Peter  StanihurEt. 


630  The  Blessed  Edmund  CampioJi's 

conveniences  of  place,  time,  and  company,  as  the  occasion  arose  ; 
to  supply  me  with  books  ;  to  make  such  provision  for  my  time  of 
study,  that,  away  from  my  rooms  at  Oxford  I  never  read  more 
pleasantly.  After  this  one  would  think  there  was  nothing  more 
to  come.  But  there  was  more.  As  soon  as  you  heard  the  first 
rustlings  of  the  storm,  which  was  sure  to  blow  to  a  hurricane  if  I 
stayed  longer  in  sight  of  the  heretics  at  Dublin,  you  opened  to  me 
this  secret  hiding-place  among  your  country  friends.  Till  now  I 
had  to  thank  you  for  conveniences ;  now  I  have  to  thank  you  for  my 
safety  and  my  breath.  Yes,  breath  is  the  word  ;  for  those  who  strive 
with  the  persecutors  are  commonly  thrust  into  dismal  dungeons, 
where  they  draw  in  filthy  fogs,  and  are  not  allowed  to  breathe  whole- 
some air.  But  now,  through  you  and  your  children's  kindness,  I 
shall  live,  please  God,  more  free  from  this  peril,  and,  my  mind 
tells  me,  most  happily.  First  of  all,  your  friend,  Barnwall,  is 
profuse  in  his  promises.  When  he  had  read  your  letter  he  was 
sorry  for  the  hardness  of  the  times,  but  was  as  glad  of  my  coming 
as  if  I  had  done  him  a  great  favour.  As  he  had  to  go  to  Dublin, 
he  commended  me  to  his  wife,  who  treated  me  most  kindly.  She 
is  surely  a  very  religious  and  modest  woman.  I  was  shut  up  in  a 
convenient  place  within  an  inner  chamber,  where  I  was  reconciled 
to  my  books.  With  these  companions  I  lie  concealed  in  my 
cell." 

On  the  same  day  he  wrote  to  Kichard  Stanihurst : — 

"  It  is  hard  that,  however  grateful  I  feel,  I  cannot  show  it. 
But  I  know  you  neither  need  nor  desire  repayment ;  so  I  only 
give  you  my  wishes  for  the  present  ;  the  rest  when  I  get  back  to 
the  land  of  the  living.  Meanwhile,  if  these  buried  relics  have 
any  flavour  of  the  old  Campion,  their  flavour  is  for  you ;  they 
are  at  your  service.  I  am  infinitely  obliged  to  you  and  your  brother 
Walter  for  the  pains  you  lately  took  on  my  behalf.  Seriously, 
I  owe  you  much.  -I  have  nothing  to  write  about,  unless  you  have 
time  and  inclination  to  laugh.  Tell  me — you  say  nothing.  Listen, 
then.  The  day  after  I  came  here  I  sat  down  to  read  ;  suddenly 
there  broke  into  my  chamber  a  x^oor  old  woman,  who  wanted  to 
set  things  to  rights  ;  she  saw  me  on  her  left  hand,  and  knowing 
nothing  about  me,  she  thought  I  was  a  ghost.  Her  hair  stood 
on  end,  her  colour  fled,  her  jaw  fell,  she  was  struck  dumb. 
*  What  is  the  matter  ?  '  I  asked.  Frightened  to  death  she  almost 
fainted ;  she  could  not  speak  a  w^ord ;  all  she  could  do  was  to 
throw  herself  out  of  the  room.  She  could  not  rest  till  she  had 
told  her  mistress  that  there  was  some  hideous  thing,  she  thought 
a  ghost,  writing  in  the  garret.  The  story  was  told  at  supper 
time,  the  old  woman  was  sent  for  and  made  to  tell  her  fright ; 
everybody  died  of  laughing,  and  I  proved  to  be  alive  and  no 
ghost."  ^ 

^  Simpson's  Life  of  Edmund  Campion^  page  39. 


*'  History  of  Ireland^'  and  its  Critics,  631 

As  Campion,  while  writing  his  Irish  History,  was  taken 
for  a  hideous  thing  by  the  poor  old  woman,  so,  alas !  that 
History  has  been  held  up  as  a  hideous  thing  by  learned  and 
sober  Irishmen  from  Dr.  Keating,^  in  the  seventeenth 
century,  to  Dr.  Kelly!  of  Maynooth  in  our  own  times. 
For  the  last  forty  years  I  have  often  heard  it  spoken  of,  and 
always  in  terms  of  the  severest  censure,  and  during  this 
Whitsuntide  of  1891  I  have  heard  it  denounced  by  an  Irish 
gentleman  in  presence  of  a  learned  Neapolitan  who  had  lived 
a  long  time  in  America,  and  of  an  Englishman  who  had  been 
educated  at  Oxford.  It  is  sad  that  one,  a  blessed  martyr, 
who  should  be  so  dear  to  all  the  children  of  the  Catholic 
Church,  is  thus  ignorantly  and  lightly  misrepresented. 
Against  such  rash  and  unfounded  statements  I  will  pro- 
duce the  History  to  speak  for  itself;  for  as  Stanihurst  says, 
'*  Maister  Campion  did  learn  it  to  speak." 

I.    THE    CRITICS. 

Its  first  critic  was  Barnaby  Eich,  gent,  the  most  bigoted 
and  mendacious,  perhaps,  of  all  the  English  who  have 
meddled  with  Irish  history.  In  his  descriptions  of  Ireland^ 
he  says : — 

"■  I  think  Ireland  to  be  in  nothing  more  unfortunate  than  in 
this,  that  her  history  was  never  undertaken  to  be  truly  set  forth 
but  by  Papists  such  as  Cambrensis,  Campion,  and  Stanihurst. 
I  need  not  describe  this  man,  Campion,  any  further,  for  his  end 
made  trial  of  his  honesty  .  .  .  These  lying  authorities  engender 
ignorance,  and  nothing  hath  more  led  the  Irish  into  error  than 
the  historiographers,  chroniclers,  bards  and  rhymers,  who,  at  this 
day,  do  feed  and  delight  them  in  speaking  and  writing  with 
matter  that  flatters  their  ungracious  humours." 

Hence,  according  to  Eich,  Campion  was  a  Papist  and  a 
Catholic  martyr;  and,  therefore,  a  false  witness  who  fed 
and  delighted  and  flattered  the  ungracious  humours  of  the 
Irish. 

The  learned  Irish  historian,  Geoflry  Keating,  agrees  with 
the  Englishman  in  calling  Campion  a  liar  and  a  forger,  but 

1  Preface  to  Keating's  History  of  Ireland, 

^  In  his  edition  of  Cambrensis  eversic.<i,  ii.,  page  364. 

^  Rare  Books,  published  between  1610  and  1624. 


632  The  Blessed  Bdmund  Campion'' s 

for  the  very  opposite  reason  that  he  never  praises  the  virtues 
of  the  Irish,  but  hbels  the  whole  country.  Eich  is  "  a  lewd 
liar,"  beneath  notice;  but  what  are  we  to  say  of  Keating, 
who  mislaid  his  memory  and  his  temper  when  speaking  of 
our  author  ?  We  must  attribute  the  base  and  baseless  state- 
ments he  has  written  about  the  blessed  Edmund  Campion, 
not  to  malice,  but  to  ignorance.  This  worthy  man  ends  his 
preface i  by  saying:  "Let  the  reader  excuse  me  if  I  have 
chanced  to  go  out  of  the  way  in  anything  I  have  said  in  this 
book  ;  since,  if  there  is  anything  reprehensible  in  it,  it  is  not 
from  malice  it  proceeds,  but  from  ignorance  (aineolus) ." 

We  excuse  him;  but  what  "ignorance"  he  betrays  in  the 
following  statements  about  Campion  : — 

"  There  is  not  an  English  historian  who  has  treated  of 
Ireland  that  did  not  endeavour  to  vilify  and  calumniate  both  the 
old  English  settlers  and  the  Irish.  Of  this  we  have  proof  in 
the  account  of  Cambrensis  .  .  .  Campion,  and  every  other 
English  writer  who  seem  to  imitate  the  beetle,  which,  when  it 
raises  its  head  in  summer,  flies  about  without  stooping  to  the 
fragrant  flowers  or  blossoms  of  the  garden,  even  to  the  rose  or 
lily,  but  bustles  about,  until  at  length  it  rolls  and  buries  itself  in 
the  dung  of  some  horse  or  cow,  wherever  it  meets  with  it  .  .  . 
They  never  think  of  the  good  and  virtuous  deeds  of  the  old 
English  or  Irish  nobility,  or  speak  of  their  piety  and  valour  ; 
what  monasteries  they  founded,  what  lands  and  endowments 
they  have  given  to  the  Church,  what  immunities  they  granted  to 
the  ollamhs  or  learned  doctors,  their  bounty  to  ecclesiastics,  the 
relief  they  afforded  to  the  orphans  and  the  poor,  their  hospitali- 
ties to  strangers  .  .  .  Nothing  of  all  this  is  noticed  by  the 
English  writers  of  the  time  .  .  .  Whoever  would  undertake  to 
make  a  short  survey  of  the  rude  manners,  and  investigate  the 
defects  of  the  lower  orders  of  the  people,  would  easily  fill  a 
volume  ;  for  there  is  no  country  without  its  low  rabble  ;  yet  the 
whole  country  is  not  to  be  libelled  on  that  account.  And  since 
Mergsen,  in  speaking  of  the  Irish,  acted  in  this  manner,  I  think 
it  not  just  to  esteem  him  as  an  historian;  and  of  Campion  I  say 
the  same.2 

Now  let  us  confront  this  with  what  Campion  writes. 
1.  He  says  : — 

"The  Irish  are  religious,  frank,  sufferable  of  pains,  infi- 
nite, very  glorious,  excellent  horsemen,  passing    in  hospitality, 

1  Irish  History,  page  exi.,  ed.  Halliday.  -  Keating,  pp.  ix..  Ixxiii. 


"  History  of  Ireland  "  and  its  Critics.  633 

wonderful,  kind;  such  mirrors  of  holiness  and  austerity  that  other 
nations  retain  but  a  show  or  shadow  of  comparison  of  them  ; 
greedy  of  praise  they  are,  and  fearful  of  dishonour ;  they  esteem 
their  poets,  and  bountifully  reward  them ;  they  tenderly  love 
their  foster-children,  whereby  they  nourish  a  friendship  so  bene- 
ficial in  every  way.  They  are  sharp-witted,  lovers  of  learning, 
capable  of  any  study,  constant  in  labour,  adventurous,  kind- 
hearted  ;  there  is  daily  trial  of  good  natures  among  them,  to  what 
rare  gifts  of  grace  and  wisdom  they  do  and  have  aspired.  Clear 
men  they  are  of  skin  and  hue ;  their  women  are  well-favoured, 
clear-coloured,  big  and  large.  They  honour  devout  friars  and 
pilgrims,  suffer  them  to  pass  quietly,  spare  them  and  their  man- 
sions, whatever  outrage  they  show  to  the  country  beside  them  ; 
for  the  Irish  are  in  no  way  outrageous  against  holy  men,"  &c. 

2.  He  mentions  the  foundation  of  eleven  monasteries  or 
abbeys,  one  of  which  was  established  by  the  good  King  of 
Krgall;  he  tells  how  another  man  was  a  benefactor  to  every 
church  and  religious  house  twenty  miles  around  him,  and  gave 
legacies  to  the  poor  and  others ;  he  praises  James  Butler  for 
that  of  all  vices  he  most  abhorred  the  sin  of  the  flesh,  and  in 
subduing  the  same  gave  notable  example ;  he  says  that  in  the 
time  of  King  John  the  mightiest  Irish  captains  did  stick 
together  while  their  lives  lasted,  and  for  no  manner  of  earthly 
thing  slack  the  defence  of  their  ancient  liberty ;  he  states  that 
the  Irish  coursed  the  English  into  a  narrow  circuit,  termed  the 
Pale,  out  of  which  they  durst  not  peep  ;  he  calls  Birmingham 
a  warrior  incomparable ;  and  so  hanged  was  he,  a  knight 
among  thousands  odd  and  singular.  He  praises,  exalts  the 
virtues  and  the  extraordinary  charity  to  the  poor,  of  even 
Shane  O'Neill.  Kildare  was  a  mighty-made  man,  full  of 
honour  and  courage  ;  in  government  a  mild  man ;  to  his 
enemies  intractable,  open ;  a  warrior  incomparable.  Ormond 
was  nothing  inferior  to  him  in  stomach,  and  in  reach  of 
policy  was  far  beyond  him  ;  of  much  moderation  in  speech ; 
dangerous  of  every  little  wrinkle  that  touched  his  reputation. 
The  Countess  of  Ormond,  a  sister  of  Kildare's,  was  a  lady  of 
such  post  that  all  the  estates  of  the  realm  crouched  unto  her  ; 
so  politic  that  nothing  was  thought  substantially  debated 
without  her  advice  ;  manlike,  and  tall  in  stature,  very  rich 
and  bountiful.  He  tells  how  the  beautiful  Irish  striplings 
slew  Turgesius  and  his  guard,  and  that  out  flew  the  fame 


634  The  Blessed  Edmund  Gaminon's 

thereof ;  and  the  Irish  princes,  nothing  dull  to  catch  hold  of 
such  advantage,  with  one  assent  rose  ready  to  pursue  their 
liberty,  and  with  a  running  camp  swept  every  corner  of  the 
land,  razed  the  castles  to  the  ground,  and  chased  the  strangers 
before  them ;  slew  all  that  abode  the  battle,  and  recovered, 
each  man,  his  own  precinct  and  former  state  of  government. 
He  tells  how,  in  England,  there  was  not  a  mean  subject  that 
dared  extend  his  hand  to  fillip  a  peer  of  the  realm  ;  and  that 
while  Wolsely  was  begraced  and  belorded,  and  crouched 
and  knelt  unto,  the  Lord  Deputy  of  Ireland  found  small 
grace  with  Irish  borderers  except  he  cut  them  off  by 
the  knees. ^ 

Therefore  Keating's  statements  are  absolutely  untrue,  as 
far  as  the  blessed  Edmund  Campion  is  concerned.  Hence 
he  is  accused  of  partiality  towards  the  Irish  by  Barnaby 
Eich;  and,  indeed,  in  his  descriptions,  portraits,  speeches, 
and  other  passages,  he  betrays  such  sympathy  with  the 
Catholic  people  of  Ireland,  and  gives  so  many  direct  and 
indirect  incentives  to  union,  that  if  the  English  Attorney- 
General  had  got  hold  of  his  History,  he  would  have  put  it  in 
as  evidence  of  treasonable  practices,  and,  on  that  head  alone, 
have  got  him  condemned  to  lie,  not  on  "  a  plank  bed,  but  on 
the  hurdle  on  which  he  was  dragged  to  Tyburn  to  be  hanged 
in  his  garment  of  Irish  frieze." 

I  know  that  some  readers  will  rub  their  eyes,  and  say : 
What !  do  you  mean  to  say  that  Campion  was  not  a  reviler 
and  calumniator  of  the  Irish  ?^  that  he  was  not  employed  to 
revile  them?  that  his  hatred  for  them  was  not  as  intense  and 
unnatural  as  that  of  Spencer?^  I  mean  to  say  and  show 
ajl  that.  If  he  was  employed  by  the  English  to  revile 
Irishmen,  why  did  his  employers  interrupt  him  in  his  work, 
and  hunt  him  from  place?  If  he  hated  the  Irish,  why 
did  he  praise  their  physical,  moral,  and  intellectual  charac- 
teristics more  heartily  than  writer  ever  did  before  or  since  ? 
He  did  not  praise  them  blindly ;  but  it  is  not  true  to  say, 


'  See  Campion's  History  of  Ireland^  ed.  1808. 
2  So  D'Arcy  M'Gee  says. 
^  So  Dr.  Kelly  says. 


"  History  of  Ireland  "  and  its  Critics.  635 

with  Simpson,  Campion's  miworthy  English  biographer, 
that  "  he  descants  upon  what  was  then  a  national  vice,  now 
happily  supplanted  by  the  opposite  virtue,  the  vice  of 
impurity;"  and  it  is  not  true  to  say,  with  Keating,  that  he 
libelled  the  nation  at  large.  But  it  is  true  that  all  is  not 
sunshine  in  his  pages,  and  that  the  lights  and  shades  are 
there  distributed  with  real  historic  and  artistic  instinct. 
And  for  this  he  says  : — 

*'  I  request  you  to  deliver  me  from  all  undue  and  wrong 
suspicions,  howsoever  the  privilege  of  a  history  hath  tempered 
mine  ink  with  sweet  and  sour  ingredients.  Verily,  as  touching 
the  aifairs  and  persons  here  deciphered,  how  little  cause  I  have 
with  any  blind  affection  eitherways  to  be  miscarried,  themselves 
know  best  that  here  be  noted  yet  living,  and  others  by  inquir- 
ing may  conjecture.  Farewell;  from  Drogheda,  the  9th  of 
June,  1571." 

He  mentions,  certainly,  some  defects  and  vices  of 
certain  individuals  or  classes  of  Irishmen  ;  but  then,  let  us 
remember  that  on  his  trial  for  his  life  he  said :  "As  in  all 
Christian  commonwealths,  so  in  England,  many  vices  and 
iniquities  do  abound  ;  neither  is  there  any  realm  so  godly, 
no  people  so  devout,  nowhere  so  religious,  but  that  in  the 
same  very  places  many  enormities  do  flourish  and  evil  men 
bear  sway."  But,  supposing  for  a  moment,  that  he  dwells 
too  much  on  the  failings  of  our  countrymen,  it  is  not 
"  Campion  the  Jesuit,"  "  Campion  the  priest,"  or  "  Campion 
the  Catholic,"  that  is  to  blame  for  the  penning  of  such 
things,  and  he  is  not  responsible  at  all  for  the  publication  of 
them,  as  shall  appear  from  the  history  of  his  Historic. 

When  he  had  finished  his  History,  finding  that  he  could 
hardly  escape  the  English  pursuivants  long,  and  must 
endanger  his  friends,  he  resolved  to  return  to  England  in 
disguise  ;  and,  under  the  name  of  Patrick,  which  he  assumed 
out  of  devotion  to  the  apostle  of  Ireland,  he  took  ship  at 
Drogheda,  "apparelled  in  laquey's  tweed"  as  servant  of 
Melchior  Hussey,  the  Earl  of  Kildare's  steward,  who  was 
then  on  his  way  to  England. 

As  there  was  some  suspicion  that  he  might  be  on  board, 
some  officers  went  to  search  the  ship  for  him.     As  they 


636  ■      The  Blessed  Edmund  Campion's 

asked  for  him  by  name,  be  tbougbt  be  could  not  escape,  and 
bis  surprise  was  too  great  to  allow  bim  to  take  any  pre- 
cautions. So  be  stood  quietly  on  the  deck  while  the 
officers  ferreted  out  every  nook  and  corner,  examined  the 
crew,  tumbled  the  cargo  up  and  down,  with  plentiful  curses 
OQ  the  seditious  villain  Campion.  There  he  stood  in  bis 
menial  livery,  and  saw  everybody  bufc  himself  strictly 
examined;  while  be  called  devoutly  on  St.  Patrick,  whose 
name  he  had  assumed,  and  whom,  in  consideration  of  the 
protection  he  then  gave,  he  ever  afterwards  invoked  in 
similar  dangers.  He  escaped,  but  not  his  History.  "  My 
History  of  Ireland,'"  he  says,  *'  I  suspect  has  perished  ;  it 
made  a  good-sized  and  neat  volume ;  the  heretical  officers 
seized  it."^ 

Some  months  afterwards  be  was  received  into  the  Catholic 
Church  at  Douay,  and  three  years  after  he  entered  the  Society 
of  Jesus  at  Eome.  In  1577  he  wrote  from  Prague  to  Father 
Coster,  S.  J.,  Provincial  of  the  Rhenish  Province  : — 

"  I  luas  troubled  about  a  parcel  of  manuscript,  which  is  due  to 
me  from  France,  when  Father  Posserin  told  me  it  was  possible 
you  could  lend  me  your  aid  in  this  business.  I  have  ventured  to 
ask  you,  relying  on  our  relationship  in  Christ,  which  we  have 
contracted  in  the  society,  to  do  what  you  can  for  me  in  this 
matter.  Do  you,  my  father,  manage  to  have  it  sent  to  me  at 
Prague — not  by  the  shortest,  but  by  the  safest  way.  In  anticipa- 
tion, I  profess  myself  much  in  your  debt;  for  the  book  is  a 
production  of  mme — notioliolesome,  because  prematurely  born  ;  and 
if  I  am  to  lose  it,  I  ivould  rather  it  were  altogether  destroyed  than 
fall  into  other  hands." 

He  writes  again  to  Father  Coster  in  July,  1577  : — 

"  I  fully  expected  the  assistance  you  promised  me  in  your 
kind  letter.  .  .  I  enclose  you  a  letter  for  Gregory  Martin ;  if 
you  can  send  to  bim  into  France,  I  hope  be  will  do  his  part  {i.e., 
send  the  History  to  you  for  me).  But,  as  Martin  tells  me  '^  he 
knows  no  way  of  sending  the  papers  to  me,  I  beg  you  will  take 
the  whole  business  upon  your  shoulders,  and  manage  to  have 
them  sent.  But  if  this  cannot  be  done,  I  will  try  some  other  plan, 
and  give  you  no  further  trouble." 


1  SimjDSon,  page  42. 

^  Was  Martin  afraid  he  would  destroy  this  beautiful  book  ? 


"  History  of  Ireland''  and  its  Critics.  637 

In  1579  he  writes  again  to  Gregory  Martin,  still  on  the 
subject  of  his  History: — 

'*  I  have  left  something  for  the  end,  that  you  may  knoiu  Jimo 
much  I  have  it  at  heart.  I  had  written  to  Father  Coster  our 
Provincial  of  the  Ehenish  Province,  asking  him  if  you  sent  him 
those  writings  of  mine  about  Irish  history,  which  you  have  to  find 
some  way  of  sending  them  to  Prague  in  j^^^rfect  safety  He 
promised  ...  So  now  I  ask  you  to  get  them  to  Cologne ; 
our  people  will  manage  the  rest." 

In  March,  1580,  he  left  Prague,  and  went  by  Padua  to 
Kome,  which  he  reached  in  April,  1580.  He  left  for  England 
in  April,  and  when  his  companions  urged  him  to  take  the 
English  name  of  Petre,  to  escape  the  English  spies,  "he, 
remembering  how  well  he  had  escaped  from  Ireland  under 
St.  Patrick's  patronage,  would  take  no  other  but  his  old  one 
of  Patrick,  albeit  they  tried  to  persuade  him  that  the  name, 
being  Irish,  might  bring  him  in  question."  ^  When  they 
arrived  near  Geneva,  that  sink  of  heresy,  every  man  disguised 
himself;  and  Campion  "  dissembled  his  personage  in  the 
form  of  a  poor  Irishman  dressed  in  an  old  suit  of  black 
buckram.  In  this  guise,  waiting  with  hat  in  hand,  he  stood 
"  facing  out  this  old  doting  heretical  fool,  Theodore  Beza," 
and  challenged  him  to  a  discussion. 

At  the  very  time  that  our  author  was  so  anxious  to  get 
his  History  into  his  own  hands,  and  wished  it  to  be  destroyed 
rather  than  fall  into  other  hands,  Stanihurst  wrote  to  Sir 
Henry  Sydney : — 

"  There  have  been  divers  of  late,  that  with  no  small  toil,  and 
great  commendation,  have  thoroughly  employed  themselves  in 
culling  and  packing  together  the  scrapings  and  fragments  of  the 
history  of  Ireland.  Among  which  crew,  my  fast  friend  and 
inward  companion,  Maister  Edward  Campion,  did  so  learnedly 
bequite  himself,  as  certes  that  his  History  in  mitching  wise 
wandered  through  sundry  hands ;  and  being  therewithal,  in 
certain  places,  somewhat  tickle-tongued  (for  Maister  Campion 
did  learn  it  to  speak),  and  in  other  places  over  spare,  it  twitled 
more  tales  out  of  school,  and  drowned  weightier  matters  in 
silence,  than  the  author,  2i;po7i  better  view  and  longer  search.^  lumdd 

1  L'fe  of  Father  Edmund  Campion.,  by  Father  Persons,  his  companion, 
the  MS.  of  which  is  at  Stonyhurst,  and  lias  been  printed  in  his  "  Letters 
ftnd  Notices," 


638  The  Blessed  Edmund  Campion'' s 

"have  permitted.  I  was  fully  resolved  to  enrich  Maister  Campion's 
chronicle  with  further  additions  ;  but,  weighing  that  my  coarse 
pack-thread  could  not  have  become  suitably  knit  with  his  fine 
silk,  and  what  a  disgrace  it  were  bungerly  to  botch  up  a  rich 
garment  by  clouting  it  with  patches  of  sundry  colours,  I  resolved 
not  to  borrow  or  steal  aught  to  my  purpose  from  his  History y 

Hollinshed  was  not  so  particular.  In  his  address  to 
Sydney  he  says  : — 

"  Keginald  Wolfe's  hap  was  to  light  upon  a  copy  of  two 
books  of  Irish  history,  compiled  by  one^  Edmund  Campion, 
very  well  penned  certainly,  but  so  brief,  that  it  were  to  be 
wished  occasion  had  served  him  to  have  used  more  leisure,  and 
thereby  to  have  delivered  to  us  a  larger  discourse.  He  had  not 
past  ten  weeks'  space  to  gather  his  matter,  a  very  short  time, 
doubtless,  for  such  a  work.  I  resolved  to  make  shift  to  frame  a 
special  history  of  Ireland,  following  Campion's  order,  and  setting 
down  his  own  words,  except  where  T  had  matter  to  enlarge  out 
of  other  authors." 

It  is  clear,  then,  that  Campion  cannot  be  held  responsible 
for  the  published  History,  which  may  not  represent  his 
manuscript ;  and  if  it  did,  Campion  looked  on  his  manu- 
script as  unwholesome  because  prematurely  born,  and 
would  rather  it  were  altogether  destroyed  than  fall  into 
other  hands,  and,  in  consequence,  he  made  every  effort  to 
get  it,  in  order  to  destroy  it,  or  to  make  it  wholesome. 

Even  such  as  it  is,  it  gives  a  graphic  description  of  the 
Irishmen  of  his  day,  and  as  it  is  rare,  some  extracts  from  it 
will  be  honourable  to  Ireland,  interesting  to  the  reader,  and 
also  useful  to  clear  away  the  merciless  and  unmerited 
censures  of  which  this  History  has  been  the  object  for  the 
last  two  hundred  and  fifty  years. 

I.  campion's  introduction. 

In  dedicating  his  book  to  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  our  author 

says  to  him : — 

"That  my  travel  into  Ireland  might  seem  neither  causeless 
nor  fruitless,  I  have  thought  it  expedient  ...  to  yield  you 
this  poor  book  as  an  account  of  my  poor  voyage  .  .  .  more 
full  of  unsavoury  toil  for  the  time  than  any  plot  of  work  I  ever 

1  Who  was  very  well  known  and  respected  by  Sydney. 


"  History  of  Ireland  "  and  its  Critics.  639 

attempted.  It  is  well  known  to  the  learned  of  this  land  how  late 
it  was  ere  I  could  meet  with  Gerald  of  Wales,  the  only  author 
that  ministereth  indifferent  furniture  to  this  chronicle ;  and  with 
what  search  I  have  been  driven  to  piece  out  the  rest  with  the 
help  of  foreign  writers  (incidentally  touching  the  realm),  by  a 
number  of  brief  extracts  of  rolls,  records,  and  scattered  papers 
.  .  .  so  as  to  handle  and  lay  these  things  together  I  had 
not  in  all  the  space  of  ten  tveeks.  Such  as  it  is,  I  address  and 
bequeathe  it  to  your  good  lordship,  that  by  the  patronage  of  this 
book  you  may  be  induced  to  weigh  the  estate  and  become  a  patron 
of  this  noble  realm." 

To  the  loving  reader  he  writes  :  — 

'*  I  follow  Giraldus  Cambrensis,^  who  divideth  his  work  into 
two  parts.  From  the  first,  which  is  stuffed  with  much  imperti- 
nent matter,  1  borrow  so  much  as  serveth  the  turn  directly ;  the 
second  I  abridge  into  one  chapter.  .  .  .  From  1370  to  Henry 
the  Eighth,  because  nothing  is  extant  orderly  written,  I  scamble 
forward  with  such  records  as  could  be  sought  up.  From  Henry 
the  Eighth  hitherto  I  took  instructions  by  mouth.  Whatsoever 
else  I  bring,  besides  these  helps,  either  inine  own  observation  hath 
found  it,  or  some  friend  hath  informed  me,  or  common  opinion 
hath  received  it,  or  I  read  it  in  a  pamphlet.  Notwithstanding, 
as  naked  and  as  simple  as  it  is,  it  could  never  have  grown  to  such 
proportion  in  such  post-haste  except  I  had  entered  into  such 
familiar  society  and  daily  table-talk  with  the  Worshipful  Esquire, 
James  Stanihurst,  Eecorder  of  Dublin.  .  .  .  Irish  chronicles, 
although  they  be  reported^  to  be  full  fraught  of  lewde  examples, 
idle  tales,  and  genealogies,  '  et  quicquid  Grsecia  mendax  audet  in 
historia,'  yet  concerning  the  state  of  that  wild  people  specified 
before  the  conquest,'  I  am  persuaded,^  that,  with  choice  and  judg- 
ment, I  might  have  sucked  thence  some  better  store^  of  matter, 
and  gladly  luoidd  have  sought  them,^  had  I  found  an  intepreter, 
or  understood  their  tongue ;  the  one,  so  rare  that  scarcely  five  in 
five  hundred  can  skill  thereof ;  the  other,  so  hard  that  it  asketh 
continuance  in  the  land  of  more  years  than  I  had  months  to 
spare  about  this  business.  My  special  meaning  was  to  gather  so 
much  as  I  thought  the  civil  subjects  would  be  content  to  read 
and  withal  to  give  a  light  to  the  learned  antiquarians  of  this 
country  birth     .     .     ." 

lEELAND. 
'*  Ireland  lieth  aloof  in  the  West  ocean,  and  is  deemed  by 
the  latter  survey  to  be  in  length  well-nigh  three  hundred  miles 
north  and   south,   broad  from  east  to  west,    one  hundred  and 

'  A  very  bad  guide ;  but  he  could  find  no  other. 

^  Note  the  kindness  and  caution  of  these  expressions, 


640  The  Blessed  Edmund  Gampioii's 

twenty.  In  proportion  it  resembleth  an  egg,  ^  blunt  and  plain  on 
the  sides,  not  reaching  forth  to  sea,  in  nooks  and  elbows  of  land, 
as  Britain  doth.  Dublin  is  the  beauty  and  eye  of  Ireland,  fast 
by  a  goodly  river  ;  the  seat  hereof  is  in  many  respects  conform- 
able, but  less  frequented  of  merchant  strangers,  because  of  the 
barred  haven.  Kilkenny  is  the  best  dry  town  in  Ireland,  on  the 
south  side  of  the  river  Suir  ;  Gal  way  is  a  proper  neat  city  at  the 
seaside.  Waterford  and  Dungarvan  are  full  of  traffick  with 
England,  France,  and  Spain,  by  means  of  their  excellent  good 
havens. 

"  The  soil  is  low  and  waterish,  and  includeth  divers  little 
islands  environed  with  bogs  and  marches;  -the  highest  hills  have 
standing  pools  in  their  top  ;  the  inhabitants,  especially  new  come, 
are  subject  to  distillation,  rheumes  and  fluxes,  for  remedy  whereof 
they  used  an  ordinary  drink  of  aquavitce,  so  qualified  in  the 
making  that  it  drieth  more  and  inflameth  less  than  other  hot 
confections.  The  air  is  wholesome,  not  altogether  so  clear  and 
subtle  as  ours  of  England  Of  bees,  good  store  ;  no  vineyards, 
contrary  to  the  opinion  of  some  writers,  who  both  in  this  and 
other  errors  touchmg  the  land  may  easily  he  excused,  as  those  that 
wrote  of  hearsay.^ 

"  Cambrensis  complaineth,  that  Ireland  had  excess  of  wood  and 
very  little  champaign  ground  ;  but  now  the  English  Pale  is  too 
naked. 3  Turf  and  seacoals  are  their  most  fuel.  It  is  stored  of 
kine,  of  excellent  horses  and  hawks,  of  fish  and  fowl.  They  are 
not  without  wolves,  and  greyhounds  to  hunt  them  bigger  of  hone 
a7id  limb  than  a  colt.  Their  kine,  as  also  their  cattle,  and  com- 
monly what  else  soever  the  country  engendereth  [except  many  is 
much  less  in  quantity  than  ours  of  England.  Sheep  few,  and 
those  bearing  coarse  fleeces,  whereof  they  spin  notable  ^  rug 
mantles.  The  country  is  very  fruitful  both  of  corn  and  grass  ;  the 
grass  for  default  of  husbandry  groweth  so  rank  in  the  north  part 


^  Its  shape  is  that  of  a  rhomboid,  the  great  diagonal  of  which  is 
302  miles,  and  the  less  210  miles ;  the  greatest  length  on  a  meridional  line 
is  225  miles  ;  the  greatest  and  least  breadths  or  parallels  of  latitude,  174 
and  111  miles. —  1  horn's  Directory,  page  619 

'^  Some  errors  of  his  own  we  may  easily  excuse  for  the  same  reason. 

^  He  is  the  first  to  suggest  re-afforesting  ;  Spencer  is  accused  by 
I^ord  RocFie  of.  cutting  down  the  trees  of  his  neighbours  ;  see  infra. 

^  And  dogs,  of  course,  too.  Giraldus  Cambrensis  had  got  it  into  his 
head,  that  all  animals  of  Ireland,  except  men,  were  smaller  than  those  of 
England,  He  says  the  Irish  hare  is  smaller  than  the  English.  Perhaps  it 
is,  on  an  average,  somewhat  smaller  ;  but  certainly  not  to  the  extent  that 
Giraldus  represents.  He  describes  it  also,  as  given  to  take  to  cover  like  a 
fox,  instead  of  taking  to  the  comitry  like  the  more  sportsmanlike  hare  of 
England.  I  believe  this  to  be  a  libel. — Dimviicts  Preface  to  vol.  v.  of 
Giraldus  Cambrensis,  page  Ixxii. 

^  He  was  himself  hanfjed  in  an  Irish  ru?. 


"  History  of  Ireland  "  and  its  Critics.  G^l 

that  oft  times  it  rotteth  their  kine.^  Eagles  are  well  known  to 
breed  here,  but  neither  so  big  nor  so  many  as  books  tell. 
Cambrensis  reporteth  of  his  own  knowledge,  and  I  have  heard  it 
averred  by  credible  -persons,  that  barnacles,  thousands  at  once, 
are  noted  along  the  shores  to  hang  by  the  beaks  about  the  edges 
of  putrified  timber,  ships,  oars,  anchor-holds,  and  such  like, 
which,  in  process,  taking'Jively  heat  of  the  sun,  become  water 
fowls,  and  at  their  ripeness  fall  into  the  sea  or  fly  about  into  the 
air. 

**  Horses  they  have,  of  pace  easy,  and  in  running  wonderful 
swift.  Therefore,  they  make  of  them  great  store,  as  v^herein  at 
time  of  need  they  repose  a  great  piece  of  safety.  I  heard  it 
verified  by  Honourable  to  Honourable,  that  a  nobleman  offered, 
and  was  refused,  for  one  such  horse,  an  hundred  kyne,  five  pound 
lands,  and  an  eyrie  of  hawks  yearly,  for  seven  years. 

*'  No  venomous  creeping  beast  is  brought  forth  or  nourished  ; 
or  can  live  here,  being  sent  in;  and  therefore,  the  spider  of 
Ireland  is  well-known  not  to  be  venomous.  St.  Bede  writeth, 
that  serpents  oo'nveyed  hither  did  presently  die,  being  touched 
with  the  smell  of  the  land,  and  that  whatsoever  came  hence  was 
there  of  sovereign  virtue  against  poison.  He  exemplifieth  in 
certain  men  stung  with  adders,  who  drank  in  watar  the  scrapings 
of  books  that  had  been  of  Ireland,  and  were  cured.  Neither  is 
this  property  to  be  ascribed  to  St.  Patrick's  blessing,  as  they 
commonly  hold,  but  to  the  original  blessing  of  God,  who  gave 
such  nature  to  the  situation  and  soil  from  the  beginning.  And 
though  I  doubt  not  but  it  fared  the  better  in  many  respects  for  that 
holy  mans  2jrayer,~  yet  had  it  this  condition  notified  hundreds  of 
years  ere  he  was  born. 

Edmund  Hogan,  S.J. 
(To  be  continued.) 

^  Caused  by  the  devastatiug  inroads  of  the  English,  who  Spoiled  and 
burnt  all  before  them,  in  order  to  cause  famine  in  the  Irish  territories. 
Our  author  did  not  know  or  dare  to  avow  this. 

2  Spencer  speaks  most  disrespectfully  of  St.  Patrick,  and  attributes 
many  of  the  ills  of  Ireland  to  his  preaching  and  popery. 


VOL.  xn.  2  S 


t    642    i 


THE  CONVEESION  OF  ENGLAND. 

rpHE  conversion  of  England !  We  readily  forgive  a  writer 
JL  for  being  enthusiastic  about  it.  It  recalls  volumes  of 
history,  free  of  the  romance  of  hermits  and  saints,  transcend- 
ing in  variety  and  absorbing  interest  the  wildest  flights  of  the 
imaginative  writer,  and  the  most  inspiring  theme  of  the  poet. 
It  recalls  the  grand  old  mellow  days  of  Saxon  and  Norman 
Catholicism,  when  king's  brothers  were  priests  and  their 
sisters  nuns,  when  education  was  free,  when  saints  were 
abundant,  when  faith  and  virtue  ennobled  the  race,  when 
knights  and  reeves  and  sheriffs  and  aldermen  became  monks ; 
when  warriors,  who  bad  tried  their  steel  against  the  Danes, 
grasped  their  hilts,  and  swore  to  defend  the  abbot's  rights, 
and  invoked  the  destruction  of  St.  Peter's  sword  on  the 
violators  thereof.  It  recalls  the  sanctity  of  Egbert,  the 
courage  of  Wilfred,  the  learning  of  Alcuin.  It  brings  back 
Bede  and  his  monks ;  Hilda  and  her  nuns  ;  Canterbury, 
York,  Lichfield,  Durham,  Winchester,  historic  names — an 
unbroken  line  from  St.  Augustine  to  William  Warham,  with 
here  and  there  towering  in  the  long  line, Theodore  and  Dunstan 
and  Lanfranc,  and  Anselm  and  a  Becket,  giants,  virifamosi  a 
saeculo — cathedrals,  monuments  of  the  faith,  with  their 
sanctuaries — Einchale,  Fountains,  Whalley,  York  and  its 
Corpus  Christi  guild;  Oxford  in  its  palmy  days,  with  its 
*'  Determinationes,"  legatine  processions  from  Dover  to 
London ;  cardinals  and  lord  chancellors ;  and  we  dream  a 
dream,  and  see  in  the  future  a  people  of  thirty  millions 
covering  the  same  ground,  with  its  thirty  thousand  priests 
and  one  hundred  thousand  nuns ;  and  its  religious  orders, 
giving  saints  as  of  old;  and  the  cross-tipped  spire  peeping 
among  the  trees  in  rural  England,  and  the  good  old  village 
parish  priest ;  and  the  blessed  Sacrament,  in  quiet  possession 
of  its  own  all  over  the  bosom  of  this  teeming  land;  and 
the  Corpus  Christi  and  May  pro«essions  of  old  times; 
and  our  old  men,  with  their  white  hair,  saying  their  Hail 
Mary's  by  the  wayside,  waiting  to  be  garnered  in  ;  and  our 
young  men,  peverential  and  sound ;  and  our  young  women, 


The  Conversion  of  England.  643 

light-hearted  and  blithe ;  and  our  children,  running  to  kiss 
the  priest's  hand ;  and  faith  all  over  the  land ;  and  peace  and 
joy,  and  merry  England  once  more,  with  the  Holy  Ghost 
enlightening  with  "silent  streams"  the  heart  of  England, 
like  a  golden-rayed  sunset  on  the  horizon  !  It  is  sunshine 
after  rain.  It  is  the  conversion  of  England  to  the  faith,  after 
many  generations  of  error,  and  despair,  and  gloom,  and 
dismal  deathbeds,  when  men  went  they  knew  not  whither ; 
but,  like  the  pagans,  into  darkness  and  night.  That  is  a 
grand  future — not  reserved  for  our  day,  or  the  next.  This 
generation  shall  not  say.  Quia  viderunt  oculi  mei  salutare 
tuum.     Shall  the  next  ? 

But  you  may  object,  England  will  never  return  to  the 
true  faith.  It  is  against  the  analogy  of  history.  No  nation 
in  the  whole  course  of  history  that  fell  ever  came  back  to  the 
faith  again.  The  East  fell,  and  never  returned ;  Egypt  fell,  and 
never  recovered ;  Carthage  and  all  the  North  African  Churches 
fell,  and  never  returned  ;  Germany  fell,  and  never  returned ; 
Scandinavia  fell,  and  never  returned ;  Scotland  fell,  and  never 
returned ;  and  do  you  expect  that  England,  whose  fall  began 
and  grew  on  lower  passions  and  more  selfish  motives  than 
influenced  some  of  the  others — lust  and  avarice — will  get  a 
grace  hitherto  refused  to  all  the  rest  ?  The  Donatists  died 
in  their  heresy ;  the  Eutychians  died  in  their  heresy ;  the 
Nestorians  died  in  their  heresy ;  the  Photians  died  in  their 
heresy ;  their  descendants,  the  Greeks  and  Kussians,  do  the 
same.  Scotch  Presbyterians,  German  Lutherans,  Norwegian 
Calvinists,  Eussian  schismatics,  African  Mahommedans,  and 
English  Protestants,  go  the  way  of  all  flesh.  Lavigerie 
dreams  about  the  Africans,  Tondini  about  the  Kussians,  and 
you,  gentlemen,  dream  about  the  Church  of  England  becom- 
ing once  more  united  to  the  See  of  Peter.  We  wish  we 
could  share  with  you  in  the  pleasure  of  the  dream ;  but 
England  is  dead,  and,  like  the  nations  that  went  before,  from 
Israel  downwards,  there  is  no  resurrection. 

We  must  say  that  we  have  a  strong  aversion  to  the 
objection.  It  would  damp  energy,  frustrate  plans,  and 
utterly  demoralize  the  missionary  ideal.  So,  as  we  are  not 
inclined  to  grapple  with  it,  we  pass  it  by.  Non  ragionam' 
di  lor\ 


644  The  Conversion  of  England. 

There  are  two  forces  at  work  regarding  the  Catholicism 
of  the  country.  It  will  throw  light  on  the  purpose  of  the 
present  paper  to  indicate  them.  One  is  inside  the  Church, 
and  the  other  outside  it ;  one  Catholic,  the  other  Protestant, 
though  Catholicizing.  The  Eitualists,  and  the  Eitualists 
alone,  are  doing  all  that  is  being  done  among  Protestants. 
How  many  parsons  from  Newman  to  Kivington  have  been 
converted  by  priests?  True,  all  have  been  received  by 
priests.  But  how  many  have  confessed  their  obligations  to 
our  sermons  or  our  writings  that  we  Catholic  priests  w^ere 
in  any  degree  answerable  for  their  conversion?  The 
Catholicizing  movement  in  the  Establishment  has  not  been 
the  result  of  the  missionary  activity  of  the  Catholic  Church 
in  England.  It  is  true  to  say  that  convert  priests  receive 
more  converts  than  others,  but  that  is  mainly  on  account  of 
personal  influence  in  certain  non-Catholic  quarters  where 
we  have  no  access,  as  well  as  having  a  keener  grasp  of 
difficulties  which  we  never  feel.  Men  w^ho  pass  through  the 
fire  themselves  are  good  guides.  This  external  movement 
is  of  vast  importance.  At  this  hour  five  thousand  Church  of 
England  clergymen  are  preaching  from  as  many  Protestant 
pulpits  the  Catholic  faith  (not,  indeed,  as  faith)  to  Catholi- 
cizing congregations,  much  more  effectively,  with  less 
suspicion  and  more  acceptance  than  we  can  ever  hope  to  do. 
Protestant  sisterhoods  are  doing,  we  feel  sure,  the  best  they 
can  under  the  circumstances  to  familiarize  the  Philistine 
with  nuns — and  that  is  much.  Protestant  societies,  like 
St.  Margaret's,  Westminster,  furnish  poor  country  missions 
(there  are  poor  country  Protestant  missions,  and  city  ones 
too)  with  black  vestments  for  requiems  on  All  Souls. 
This  is,  indeed,  a  matter  for  devout  thankfulness.  We 
could  desire  no  better  preparation  for  joining  the  Catholic 
Church  than  the  Eitualists'  preparatory  school  ;  and  the  fact 
that  from  them  we  have  secured  the  majority  of  our  converts, 
strengthens  us  in  our  view  of  it. 

But,  in  spite  of  all  this,  and  in  spite  of  many  high  hopes 
that  have  prevailed  and  still  prevail  amongst  us,  we  think  it 
well  to  say  that  for  us  in  our  present  position,  the  vital 
question  for  us  is — not  the  conversion  of  Protestants,  but 


The  Conversion  of  England,  645 

!  let  us  say  it,  the  conversion  of  Catholics.  •  Let  us 
solidify  our  parochial  institutions  ;  let  us  purify  family  life  ; 
let  us  build  upon  the  natural  and  legitimate  development  of 
Catholic  families.  St.  Paul  had  some  special  ideas  about 
"  the  household  of  the  faith."  A  short  time  ago  in  the  pages 
of  the  I.  E.  Eecoed  we  ventured  to  urge  the  primary 
importance  of  renewing  the  wholesome  discipline  of  the 
Church  in  the  matter  of  marriages  and  burials.  We  hold 
that  they  are  of  grave  importance  in  building  up  the  Catholic 
Church  in  England.  As  for  marriages,  they  being  the  source 
of  all  our  woes,  the  rehabilitation  of  Christian  marriage 
seems  to  be  absolutely  essential  to  our  progress.  What  can 
we  expect  from  bad  marriages  but  bad  families  ?  Here  is  an 
experienced  priest  who  tells  me  that  he  has  married  in  his 
time  some  two  hundred  and  eighty  coaples,  and  out  of  these 
he  could  count  some  twenty  really  Christian  marriages  which 
were  entitled  to  the  blessing  of  God.  Two  hundred  and 
sixty  were  the  usual  kind  of  things  which  we  get  accustomed 
to,  and  which  we  call  marriages,  because  they  come  to  the 
church,  and  the  priest  and  registrar  put  them  through  the 
usual  ceremony.  Lacordaire  says  much  in  his  conference 
La  Famille  about  the  beauty  of  a  marriage,  and  youth, 
beauty,  innocence,  and  kindred  charming  things ;  but 
Lacordaire  never  worked  a  city  mission  in  London,  or 
Manchester,  or  Liverpool. 

But  not  only  in  this  regard  do  we  notice  a  fatal  weakness 
in  the  fibre  of  Catholicism  in  England.  Take  our  Sunday 
masses.  Catholics  are  bound  to  go  to  mass,  but  (all 
reasons  aside)  do  they  go  ?  Here  is  a  parish  of  four 
thousand — a  well-worked,  well-manned  parish,  and  one  thou- 
sand seven  hundred  go  to  mass.  There  is  another  with  a 
Catholic  population  of  close  on  seven  thousand,  and  three 
thousand  go  to  mass.  And  these  are  very  high  attendances; 
higher  than  are  generally  secured.  Indeed  there  is  hardly 
any  doubt  whatever  that  in  this  great  centre  of  the  North, 
where  we  have  so  much  really  energetic  Catholicism,  nearly 
twenty  thousand  Catholics  habitually  lose  mass.  And  for  it 
there  is  no  remedy  except  to  keep  pegging  away.  The  pre- 
sent writer  once  took  in  hand  a  famous  street  in  his  district ; 


646  The  Conversion  of  England, 

it  contained  an  adult  Catholic  population  of  ninety-four,  all 
bound  to  hear  mass,  and  all  lost  mass  habitually.  We  visited 
them  for  sixteen  weeks,  and  thus  every  person  there  received 
sixteen  visits,  making  a  total  of  one  thousand  five  hundred 
and  four  visits  paid  in  that  street.  Slowly,  gently,  patiently, 
we  spoke,  exhorted,  and  rebuked,  in  omni  patientia  et  doc- 
trina.  We  were  resolved  to  win:  one  thousand  five  hundred 
and  four  promises  were  given  and  broken.  One  woman 
came  to  confession,  and  never  went  to  mass  or  confession 
since,  and  that  is  four  years  ago.  We  remember  two  families 
whose  bedrooms  overlooked  the  church,  and  over  the  organ- 
gallery  the  people  could  see  out  of  their  beds  the  lights  on 
the  altar  and  the  priest  saying  mass.  We  went  there  regularly 
Sunday  after  Sunday  to  rouse  them  up  to  come  to  the  10.15 
or  the  11  o'clock  mass.  We  asked  them  to  look  out,  and  see 
the  priest  saying  mass;  they  never  turned  their  heads  in 
bed;  and  they  finally  left  because  the  priest  was  making 
himself  such  a  nuisance !  Now,  let  us  say  this  deliberately, 
their  faith  is  gone  ;  after  three  centuries  of  suffering  and 
buffeting  by  the  storm  they  sink  in  a  calm  sea,  like  those 
birds  that  traverse  the  ocean,  and  plunge  into  the  wave  in 
sight  of  land.  Of  all  the  hopeless  cases  where  the  priest  gets 
nothing  for  his  labour,  these  Catholics  seems  to  be  most 
hopeless,  and  all  the  priest  can  say  is :  "  Misereatur  Dominus, 
misereatur  nostri,  et  illuminet  vultum  suum  super  nos." 
They  shall  come  from  all  parts,  the  East  and  the  West,  and 
sit  down  in  the  bosom  of  Abraham;  but,  indeed,  not  these. 
St.  Paul  had  no  hesitation  in  saying  :  ''Ecce  convertimur  ad 
gentes,"  when  his  ministry  was  refused  ;  and  it  will  strike 
many  priests  that  it  is  easier  to  Catholicize  well-disposed 
Protestant  families  in  his  district  than  get  Catholics  of  this 
type  to  mass. 

This  is,  indeed,  a  lamentable  condition,  and  opens  the 
door  to  many  grave  abuses.  Can  we  progress  under  such 
circumstances  ?  Are  we  progressing  ?  Some  say,  Yes  ;  some, 
No.  A  priest  lately  said  that  this  grumbling  at  the  so-called 
unsatisfactory  condition  of  Catholicism  in  the  country  is 
enough  to  bring  down  on  us  the  chastisement  of  the 
Almighty,    and    that   nothing  strikes   him   more  than    the 


The  Conversion  of  England.  647 

miraculous  progress  which  we  have  made  during  the  past 
generation  or  so. 

Let  us  see  how  far  statistics  go.  Somebody  has  said  that 
we  ought  to  be  nearly  4,000,000.  Let  us  say  that  we  know 
of  no  data  that  would  warrant  such  a  figure. 

In  1841  the  Catholic  population  of  England  and  Wales 
was  800,000.  Since  then  the  total  population  of  England 
has  increased  62  per  cent.  In  1841  it  was  18,845,424 ;  now 
it  is  30,537,275.  The  Irish  famine  sent  (approximately) 
750,000,  and  their  natural  development  would  be  (approxi- 
mately) 280,000.     Tottingup  we  find:— 

Catholic  population  in  1841  .         .  800,000 

Increase  at  62  per  cent.  .         .  500,000 

Exiled  by  famine  .         .         .  750,000 

Their  increase        ....  280,000 


2,330,000 


What  we  ought  to  be    . 

On  reviewing  the  most  reliable  figures  for  our  actual 
population,  we  find  in  round  numbers  that  the  actual  Catholic 
total  is  about  1,362,760.  Our  marriage  returns  issued  to  the 
Eegistrar-General  bears  out  that  figure,  and  for  our  purpose 
it  is  sufficiently  accurate. 

Now,  2,330,000  —  1,362,760  =  967,240,  or  a  deficit  of 
close  of  a  million  Catholics.  Now,  we  ask,  where  is  that 
million  ?  Can  we  be  fairly  accused  of  murmuring  against 
the  providence  of  God  if  we  complain  that  we  cannot  view 
figures  like  these  with  complacency  ?  We  could  wish  that 
emigration  transferred  them  to  the  Catholic  Church  of  the 
United  States,  and  that  that  prosperous  community  was 
enriched  at  our  expense  rather  than  be  driven  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  they  lost  the  faith.  We  believe  emigration  accounts 
for  some  ;  but  we  have  no  doubt  that  the  heavy  end  has 
simply  lost  the  faith.  We  know  a  country  village  growing 
around  the  works  of  a  German  Lutheran  (Sir  Sails  Schwabe) 
and  no  Catholic  family  goes  into  it  without  losing  the  faith. 
Poor  Catholic  families  come  from  Ireland  who  know  the  faith 
traditionally,  but  not  polemically,  who  were  never  prepared 
to  emigrate,  and  who  never  should  be  allowed  to  emigrate 
and  settle  down,     They  have  the  British  schools  and  skeleton 


648  The  Conversion  of  England. 

evangelicalism  bitter  as  aloes  against  the  faith  ;  no  mass,  no 
Catholic  schools  within  miles,  no  priest,  but  a  white-chokered 
gentleman  professing  whatever  kind  of  heresy  the  patron 
advertises  for — generally,  we  believe,  something  about  essen- 
tial corruption  and  compulsory  damnation.  The  priest  is 
kept  out.  The  game  is  all  on  the  one  side,  and  in  twelve 
months  the  Mullens  and  Mulligans  and  Murphys  have  lost 
the  faith.  This,  we  fear,  prevails  to  a  considerable  extent  in 
rural  districts ;  but  as  we  desire  to  write  with  caution,  we 
would  recommend  more  general  information  before  attempt- 
ing to  suggest  a  percentage. 

It  is  not  difficult  to  find  out  what  is  going  on  as  regards 
loss  of  faith  in  a  city  mission.  It  is  considerably  more 
difficult,  at  least  under  present  circumstances,  to  cope  with 
it.  Educationalists  may  inquire  where  are  our  children, 
in  a  tone  that  does  not  suggest  that  they  want  them  in 
Catholic  schools.  It  is  well  w^orth  our  while  to  inquire, 
where  are  our  people  married,  and  to  whom.  Opening 
the  register  of  an  average  Protestant  parochial  church, 
I  read  as  follows : — 

Maeeiages. 
February  19-— Edwin  Walton  to  Sarah  Whittaker. 

,,         27 — Frank  Watson  to  JElizabeth  Parker. 

,,         21— John  Dooly  to  Mary  Ann  Atkinson. 

,,         28  —Tho7nas  Tienian  to  Eli;^abeth  Duff. 
March John  Powell  to  Edith  Taylor. 

,,  4 — Alfred  Plummer  'BovMow  to  Mary  Ellen  Lyons. 

,,         11 — Thomas  Smith  to  Sarah  Stafford. 

,,         20 — James    Henry    Coates    to    Matilda    Paulden 
Newton. 
April  1 — Edward   John   Wellings   to    Mary   Josephine 

O'Hara. 

„  2 — Joseph  Hinds  to  Annie  Florence  Taylor. 

,,  4 — Charles  Milner  Nesbitt  to  Mary  Jane  Biley. 

,,         15— Thomas  Jones  to  Elizabeth  Barlow. 

,,         16 — James  Herbert  Kenyon  to  Elizabeth  Ann  Jones. 

And  so  the  lists  go  on  until  we  come  to  November,  the 
last  notice  being  fairly  in  keeping  with  the  preceding,  viz. : — 

Nov.       12 — Eichard  Jackson  to  Jane  Nicholson  Haere. 
,,         12 — Conrad     William     Warmbold     to    Winefred 

Brannan. 
,,         12 — William  Breakey  to  Catherine  Annie  Duffy. 
,,         21 — Horatio  Eobert  Goodwin  to  Mary  Dmistone, 
,,         27— Thomas  Sharp  to  Mary  Anne  Kelly. 


The  Conversion  of  England.  649 

I  have  italicized  the  names  obviously  Irish :  I  have 
omitted  English  names,  which,  for  all  I  know,  Ttiay  be 
Catholic.  "Whatever  way  we  view  it,  is  not  the  list 
interesting  ?  Is  not  the  percentage  high  ?  and  can  it  be  in 
accordance  with  the  designs  of  the  Almighty  in  such  a  way 
as  to  merit  His  vengeance  by  grumbling  about  it  ?  It  all 
comes  from  that  wonderful  discretion  which  we  have 
succeeded  in  practising  so  long  that  it  is  now  a  widespread 
conspiracy  of  silence.  The  writer  once  preached  at  a  Missa 
Cantata  (parocho  celebrante)  on  the  sanctity  of  marriage, 
its  sacramental  character,  a  sacramentum  vivorum  ;  a  mar- 
riage before  the  registrar,  a  sacrilege  ;  a  mixed  marriage  and 
a  marriage  in  a  Protestant  Church,  a  communicatio  in  sacris 
and  an  impHcit  adhesion  to  heresy,  &c.  The  Gospel  was  on 
the  marriage  feast  of  Cana  of  Galilee,  and  (as  we  presumed) 
naturally  formed  a  legitimate  and  time-honoured  starting- 
point.  As  the  parochus  will  read  this,  let  us  say  that  he 
was  very  unhappy  during  that  half-hour,  and  when  it  was 
over,  and  he  was  free  to  make  an  observation,  he  said  : — 
"  Well,  I  never  yet  had  a  curate  that  did  not  insist  on 
preaching  a  sermon  on  the  marriage  feast  of  Cana  in 
Galilee."  We  violated  the  circumspect  conspiracy  of  silence, 
but  as  we  took  particular  pains  in  preparing  the  sermon,  we 
ought  io  be  allowed  the  luxury  of  relating  the  anecdote. 

Now,  in  connection  with  these  registers,  let  us  note  that, 
in  the  long  run,  the  number  of  girls  who  marry  non-Catholics 
in  the  Protestant  church  is  largely  in  excess  of  the  number 
of  Catholic  young  men  who  go  there  to  contract  marriage 
with  non-Catholic  young  women.  We  suspect  that  the 
young  man  has  generally  the  voluntas  jpraedominans  in 
matters  of  this  kind.  The  result  is,  that  in  a  large  number 
of  cases  where  the  Irish  and  Catholic  young  woman  {v.  g., 
Mary  Jane  Riley  is  married  to  Charles  Milner  Nesbitt)  with 
the  Irish  and  Catholic  name  appears  before  the  next  priest 
as  Mrs.  Milner  Nesbitt,  the  rev.  gentleman  takes  her  for 
a  Protestant,  and  she  disappears  finally  from  the  purview  of 
any  priest.  When  you  keep  this  fact  steadily  in  view,  you 
will  find  an  explanation  that  goes  a  long  way  in  solving  the 
difficulty   arising   from    the    comparative    fewness    of  the 


650  The  Conversion  of  England. 

baptisms  with  ostensibly  Catholic  names.  Thus,  if  you  find 
William  Henry  Riley  in  a  Protestant  register  of  baptisms, 
you  begin  to  suspect  that  something  is  wrong ;  but  finding 
William  Henry  Nesbitt,  you  conclude  he  is  English  and 
Protestant,  and  that  the  Protestant  register  is  the  proper 
place  for  him  to  be.  We  baptize  a  certain  number,  of  which 
a  large  number  are  again  put  through  the  ceremony  in  the 
Protestant  church.  Our  baptism,  however,  is  no  guarantee 
that  they  will  be  brought  up  Catholics.  It  is  a  guarantee 
that  they  have  really  been  baptized,  and  that  there  is  a 
hope — sacramenta  propter  homines  is  a  holy  principle  to 
which  we  cling — that  they  may  be  Catholics.  Still,  of 
these  a  large  number  is  baptized  in  the  Protestant 
church  and  nowhere  else,  a  not  inconsiderable  number  is 
never  baptized  anywhere,  and  of  all  these  the  vast  majority 
are  never  heard  of  again  in  connection  with  any  congrega- 
tion, Catholic  or  Protestant.  We  do  not  frequently  hear  of 
them  dying  Protestants,  because  we  never  hear  of  them 
dying  anything  at  all.  Still  an  odd  name  appears  on  the 
scanty  list  of  those  sufficiently  Protestant  to  be  put  on  the 
mortuary  list  in  the  register — those  who  presumably  sent 
for  the  rector  in  their  sickness,  and  died  Protestants — and 
these  are  a  mere  fraction  of  the  Protestant  community.  For 
instance,  we  read  with  sadness  the  death  of  the  following 
'^Protestant":— 

"  Ann  Kelly.     Aged  80." 

Poor  Ann !  No  confession,  no  Confiteor  rolling  on  in  the 
Irish  tongue,  no  God-visited  deathbed  in  the  Holy  Viaticum, 
no  signing  of  this  sinful  flesh  of  ours  with  the  holy  oils ! 
No;  a  struggle  in  the  hurricane  in  the  night,  and — Ann 
Kelly,  aged  80,  dies  a  Protestant. 

From  this  we  gather  that  a  large  number  of  Catholics 
are  married  in  the  Protestant  church — a  large  number  of 
their  children  are  baptized  there,  and  are  not  heard  of  any 
more,  and  some  are  heard  of  figuring  on  the  list  of  Protestant 
deaths.  This  is  not  cheerful.  How  far  will  it  go  to  account 
for  our  deficit  of  one  milhon  souls?  The  genesis  of  this 
great  running  sore  may  be  this.     Prior  to  1837  Catholics 


The  Conversion  of  England.  651 

were  bound  to  present  themselves  in  the  Protestant  church, 
and  be  put  through  the  form  before  the  minister.  Of  course, 
our  people  were  told  to  distinguish  between  the  civil  and 
the  religious  part  "of  the  function.  But  the  bucolic  mind 
will  not  distinguish.  It  grasps  salient  points,  and  the 
salient  point  caught  was  the  palpable  fact  that  the  priests 
gave  consent  to  a  matrimonial  function  before  the  minister 
in  the  Protestant  church. 

This  was  clearly  paring  away  a  good  deal  of  the  hoofs  oi 
Antichrist.  When  the  Act  of  Parliament  was  changed  in 
1837,  the  remembrance  of  this  continued,  and  although  mixed 
marriages  were  denounced,  still  the  popular  mind  of  Catho- 
lics thought  that  what  was  right  then  would  not  be  so  abso- 
lutely iniquitous  now,  and  so  it  continued  to  be  looked  upon 
as  not  so  ^'ad  after  all.  And  if  the  marriage  of  Catholics,  as 
they  thou^'ht,  was  not  so  great  a  crime,  still  less  must  it  be 
when  the  girl,  v.g.,  is  a  Protestant,  to  marry  her  in  the 
Protestant,  church.  And  then  they  discover  (they  invariably 
discover  the  wrong  thing)  that  we  objurgate  them  not  so 
much  for  marrying  a  Protestant  girl  as  for  marrying  her 
before  the  Protestant  minister.  So  they  conclude  that  they 
are  doing  -something  tolerably  good  by  mending  their  ways  and 
marrying  her  in  the  Catholic  church.  Hence  we  arrive  at 
the  idea  that  a  mixed  marriage  when  celebrated  by  the  priest 
(with  a  dispensation  which  they  speak  of  as  a  permission  to 
be  granted  for  the  asking,  and  worse  still  which  we  are  quite 
willing  to  grant,  as  we  never  refuse)  is  part  and  parcel  of  the 
average  working  of  the  Church,  and  that  it  is  very  hard  that 
they  are  opposed  in  doing  what  all  their  acquaintances  who 
wanted  to  do  it  did,  and  that  without  let  or  hindrance. 
Hence  it  L^omes  that  the  Catholic  popular  conscience  is  all 
awry  and  askew,  and  people  would  only  wonder  at  the  com- 
motion wrj  would  make  if  we  denounced  it,  which  we  do  not. 
So  we  content  ourselves  with  blandly  deprecating  it  for  a 
moment  and  then  yielding  ;  and  when  we  tot  up  we  find  a 
clear  lo&  <  of  1,000,000  souls,  which  we  are  assured  is 
wonderful  and  miraculous  prosperity,  and  mirahilis  est  Deus 
in  operihus  suis,  especially  here. 

Now    how  are  we  to  deal  with  an  evil  of  such  magnitude  ? 


652  The  Conversion  of  England. 

It  is  now  simply  a  question  of  holding  our  own  people. 
Eemember,  even  now,  we  are  the  most  numerous  denomina- 
tion in  the  country  after  the  Church  of  England.  If  we  had 
all  our  own  people  around  us,  the  Catholic  Church  in  England 
would  be  the  most  conspicuous  and  powerful  body  in  the 
land.  For  unity  of  purpose,  for  independence  of  action,  for 
earnestness  and  perseverance,  and  loyalty  to  our  cause,  we 
shall  always  be  unequalled.  Our  people  can  always  be 
rallied  ;  and  when  we  poll  our  full  strength  the  community 
at  large  will  be  quite  prepared  to  admit  how'  powerful  we 
really  are.  Nothing  succeeds  like  success.  If  you  succeed, 
you  are  right.  Hardly  any  argument  tells  so  well  here  in 
your  favour  as  when  you  show  that  the  great  public  cannot 
afford  to  despise  you.  If  you  have  power  and  strength  and 
importance,  and  the  prestige  that  springs  from  these 
attributes,  all  your  arguments  will  be  entertained,  and  all  will 
be  well.  A  nation  must  be  taken  according  to  its  temper  ; 
and  the  temper  of  England  is  opposed  to  Uriah  Heeps 
and  his  ''  'umble  home."  Now  what  is  necessary  to  make 
Catholicism  strong  in  England?  To  keep  our  own  people. 
The  first  step  towards  the  conversion  of  England  is  to  build 
up  our  own  people.  If  we  shall  be  unable  to  secure  a  greater 
measure  of  success  with  our  own  flocks  in  the  very  near 
future  than  we  have  obtained,  there  v/ill  be  very  little  use  in 
going  further  afield  to  appeal  to  the  public  conscience  of  the 
country  to  embrace  the  Catholic  faith. 

How  shall  we  attempt  this  task  ?  Looking  over  the 
country  we  find  various  missionary  units.  First,  the 
province,  with  its  metropolitan  and  suffragans.  Then  comes 
the  individual  diocese,  with  its  ordinary ;  then  the  parish ; 
then  the  district.  Hence  arise  a  hierarchy  of  missionary 
work.  The  progress  of  Catholicism  in  the  country  depends 
on  the  efficiency  of  the  missionary  labour  of  each  diocese. 
The  diocese  depends  on  parochial  perfection,  and  the  latter 
on  the  character  and  efficiency  of  district  work.  In  this  way 
the  proficiency  of  district  work,  and  the  progress  and  strength 
of  Catholicism  in  the  district  are  the  measure  of  the  progress 
of  the  conversion  of  the  whole  country.  That  is  obvious. 
But  what  is  the  result  ?     That  the  great  brunt  of  the  battle 


The  Conversion  of  England.  653 

must  be  borne  by  the  junior  clergy.  The  strength  of 
CathoHcisni  throughout  the  country  depends  on  the  hold 
which  a  priest  has  on  his  district ;  and  we  are  not  merely 
thinking  of  the  Catholic  population  now,  but  of  the  whole 
mixed  community  in  the  midst  of  which  he  is  planted. 
His  local  influence  is  the  main  power  of  the  Church.  His 
knowledge  of  local  needs,  and  how  best  they  can  be  most 
efficiently  met,  is  the  sum  total  of  Catholic  strategy  on  the 
ground  where  he  stands.  If  we  keep  merely  the  Catholic 
element  before  our  minds,  the  missioner  who  knows  his 
people  and  can  call  them  by  name,  is  he  who  needs  the 
greatest  influence  for  the  good  of  the  Church ;  and  as  for  the 
Protestants,  especially  those  belonging  to  the  industrial 
classes,  the  more  they  know  the  priest,  and  the  more  he 
knows  them,  the  more  their  hostility  wherever  it  exists  will 
be  neutralized,  and  thas  a  great  obstacle  to  Catholic 
progress  will  be  removed,  and  the  more  he  will  have  pity  on 
the  poor  starving  multitude  of  people  who  never  sinned 
against  the  light  of  Catholic  truth,  who  were  born  in  the 
wilderness,  and  who  will  die  in  it  if  the  priest  passes  them 
by.  But,  of  course,  our  first  duty  is  towards  our  own ;  a 
duty,  be  it  said,  in  no  way  hostile  to  the  claims  of  those 
outside  the  Church.  It  is  small  comfort  to  know  that  many 
Protestants  are  accessible ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  we  are 
confronted  with  a  colossal  deficit  in  our  own  ranks,  for 
which  we  cannot  account.  The  conversion  of  England  will, 
we  fear,  remain  as  it  is,  unless  we  can  shepherd  our  own 
people,  and  gather  the  "  remnants  "  of  Israel  from  the 
Syrians  and  Egyptians. 

Joseph  Tynan. 


I    654    ] 

Document 


ENCYCLICAL     LETTER     OF     HIS     HOLINESS     POPE     ).E0     XIII. 

"  DE  CONDITIONE  OPIFICUM." 

(Continued.) 

Sanctissimi  Domini  nostei  Leonis  divina  peovidentia  Papae 

xiii.    litterae    encyclic  ae     ad     patriaechas      peimates 

aechiepiscopos    et    episcopos  univeesos   catholici    oebis 

geatiam  et  communionem  cum  apostolica  sede  habentes. 

De    CONDITIONE    OpIFICUM. 

Veneeabilibus  feateibus  pateiaechis  peimatibus  aechiepiscopis 

ET    EPISCOPIS   UNIVEESIS    CATHOLICI    OEBIS     GEATIAM    ET    COM- 
MUNIONEM CUM  APOSTOLICA  SEDE  HABENTIBUS. 

LEO  PP.  XIII. 

VeNERABILES  PRATEES  SALUTEM  ET   APOSTOLICAM   BENEDICTIONEM. 

Confidenter  ad  argument um  aggredimur  ac  plane  iure  Nostro, 
propterea  quod  caussa  agitur  ea,  cuius  exitus  probabilis  quidem 
nuUus,  nisi  advocata  religione  Ecclesiasque,  reperietur.  Cum 
vero  et  religionis  custodia,  et  earum  rerum,  quae  in  Ecclesiae 
potestate  sunt,  penes  Nos  potissimum  dispensatio  sit  neglexisse 
officium  tactiturnitate  videremur.  Profecto  aliorum  quoque 
operam  et  contentionem  tanta  haec  caussa  desiderat  :  principum 
reipublicae  intelligimus,  dominorum  ac  locupletium,  denique 
ipsorum,  pro  quibus  contentio  est,  proletariorum  :  illud  tamen 
sine  dubitatione  affirmamus,  inania  conata  hominum  futura, 
Ecclesia  posthabita.  Videlicet  Ecclesia  est,  quae  promit  ex  Evan- 
gelic doctrinas,  quarum  virtute  aut  plane  componi  certamen 
potest,  aut  certe  fieri,  detracta  asperitate,  mollius;  eademque 
est,  quae  non  instruere  mentem  tantummodo,  sed  regere  vitam 
et  mores  singulorum  praeceptis  suis  contendit  ;  quae  statum 
ipsum  proletariorum  ad  meliora  promovit  pluribus  utillissime 
institutis  ;  quae  vult  atque  expetit  omnium  ordinum  consilia 
viresque  in  id  consociari,  ut  opificum  rationibus,  quam  commo- 
dissime  potest,  consulatur  ;  ad  eamque  rem  adhiberi  leges  ipsas 
auctoritatemque  reipublicae,  utique  ratione  ac  modo,  putat 
oportere. 

Illud  itaque  statuatur  primo  loco,  ferendam  esse  condition  em 
humanam  ;  ima  summis  paria  fieri  in  civili  societate  non  posse, 


Document.  655 

Agitant    id  quidem   Socialistae :  sed  omnis   est    contra    rerum 
tiaturam    vana   contentio.     Sunt   enim   in  hominibus   maximae 
plurimaeque  natura  dissimilitudines  :  non  omnium  paria  ingenia 
sunt,  non  soUertia,  non  valetudo,  non  vires ;  quarum  rerum  neces- 
sarium   discrimen   sua   sponte   sequitur   fortuna  dispar.     Idque 
plane  ad  usus  turn  privatorum   tum   ccmmunitatis  accomodate  ; 
indiget  enim  varia  ad  res  gerendas  facultate  diversisque  muneri- 
bus  vita  communis  ;  ad  quae  fungenda  munera  potissimum  impel- 
luntur  homines  differentia  rei  cuiusque  familiaris.     Et  ad  corporis 
laborem  quod  attinet,  in  ipso  statu  innocentiac  non  iners  omnino 
erat  homo  futurus ;  at   vero   quod  ad  animi  delectationem  tunc 
libere  optavisset   voluntas,  idem  postea  in  expiationem   culpae 
subire  non  sine  molestiae  sensu  coegit  necessitas.   Maledicta  terra 
in  opere  tuo  :  in  laboribus  comedes  ex  ea  cunctis   diebus  vitae 
tuae.^       Similique  modo  finis  acerbitatum  reliquarum  in  terris 
nullus   est   futurus,   quia   mala  peccati    consectaria    aspera  ad 
tolerandum  sunt,  dura  difficilia  :  eaque  homini  usque  ad  ultimum 
vitae  comitari  est  necesse.     Itaque  pati  et  perpeti  humanum  est, 
et  ut  homines  experiantur  ac  tentent  omnia,  istiusmodi  incom- 
moda  eveilere  ab  humano  convictu  penitus  nulla  vi,  nulla  arte 
poterunt.     Siqui  id  se  profiteantur  posse,  si  miserae  plebi  vitam 
polliceantur  omni  dolore  molestiaque  vacantem,  et  refertam  quiete 
ac    perpetuis    voluptatibus,   illi    populo    imponunt   fraudemque 
struunt,    in    mala    aliquando    erupturam   maiora  praesentibus. 
Optimum  factu  res  humanas,  ut  se  habent,  ita  contueri,  simulque 
opportunum  incommodis  levamentum  uti  diximus,  aliunde  petere. 
Est  illud  in  caussa,  de  qua  dicimus,  capitale  malum,  opinione 
fingere  alterum  ordinem  sua  sponte  infensum  alteri,  quasi  locu- 
pletes  et  proletarios  ad   digladiandum  inter  se  pertinaci  duello 
natura  comparaverit.     Quod  adeo  a  rations  abhorret  et  a  veritate, 
ut  contra  verissimum  sit,  quo  modo  in  corpore  di versa  inter  se 
membra  conveniunt,  unde  illud  existit  temperamentum  habitu- 
dinis,  quam  symmetriam  recte  dixeris,  eodem  modo  naturam  in 
civitate  praecepisse  ut  geminae  illae  classes  congruant  inter  se 
concorditer,  sibique  convenienter  ad  aequilibritatem  respondeant. 
Omnino  altera  alterius  indiget  :  non  res  sine  opera,  nee  sine  re 
potest  opera  consistere.     Concordia  gignit  pulcritudinem  rerum 
atque  ordinem  ;  contra  ex  perpetuitate  certaminis  oriatur  necesse 
est  cum  agresti  immanitate  confusio.     Nunc  vero  ad  dirimendum 
certamen,  ipsasque  eius  radices  amputandas,  mira  vis  est  institu- 

iQen.  iii.  17. 


B56  Documeni. 

torum  christianorum,  eaque  multiplex.     Ac  primum  tota  discip- 
lina  religionis,  cuius  est  interpres  et  custos  Ecclesia,  magnopere 
potest  locupletes  et  proletaries  componere  invicem  et  coniungere, 
scilicet  utroque  ordine  ad  officia  mutua  revocando,  in  primisque 
adea  quae  a  iustitia  ducuntur.     Quibus  ex  officiis  ilia  proletarium 
atque  opificem  attingunt  ;  quod  libere  et  cum  aequitate  pactum 
operae  sit,  id  integre  et  fideliter  reddere  :  non  rei  uUo  modo  nocere, 
non  personam  violare  dominorum :    in  ipsis  tuendis   rationibus 
suis  abstinere  a  vi,  nee  seditionem  induere  unquam  :  nee  com- 
misceri  cum  hominibus  flagitiosis,  immodicas  spes  et  promissa 
ingentia   artificiose   iactantibus,    quod   fere   habet   poenitentiam 
inutilem    et    fortunarum    ruinas    consequentes.       Ista  vero   ad 
divites   spectant  ac  dominos :  non  habendos  mancipiorum  loco 
opilices  :  vereri  in  eis  aequum  esse  dignitatem  personae,  utique 
nobilitatam  ab  eo,  character  christianus  qui  dicitur.    Quaestuosas 
artes,  si   naturae   ratio,  si  Christiana   philosophia  audiatur,  non 
pudori  homini  esse,  sed  decori,  quia  vitae  sustentandae  praebent 
honestam   potestatem.     Illud   vere  turpe   et  inhumanum,  abuti 
hominibus  pro  rebus  ad  quaestum,  nee  facere  eos  pluris,  quam 
quantum  nervis  polleant   viribusque.     Similiter  praecipitur,  reli- 
gionis et  bonorum  animi  haberi  rationem  in  proletariis  oportere, 
Quare  dominorum  partes  esse,  efficere  ut  idoneo  temporis  spatio 
pietate  vacet  opifex  ;  non  hominem  dare  obvium  lenociniis  corrup- 
telarum  illecebrisque  peccandi  :  neque  ullo  pacto  a  cura  domes- 
tiea  parsimoniaeque  studio  abducere.     Item  non  plus  imponere 
operis,  quam  vires  ferre  queant,  nee  id  genus,  quod  cum  aetate 
sexuque  dissideat.  '  In  maximis  autem  officiis  dominorum  illud 
eminet,  iusta  unicuique  praebere.    Profecto  ut  mercedis  statuatur 
ex   aequitate   modus,   caussae   sunt   considerandae  plures :   sed 
generatim  locupletes  atque  heri  meminerint,  premere  emolument! 
sui  caussa    indigentes   ac   miseros,  alienaque  ex  inopia  captare 
quaestum,  non  divina,  non  humana,  iura  sinere.     Fraudare  vero 
quemquam  mercede  debita  grande  piaculum  est,  quod  iras  e  caelo 
ultrices  clamore  devocat.   Ecce  merces  operariorum    .     .     .     quae 
fraudata  est  a  vobis,  clamat :  et  clamor  eorum  in  aures  Domini 
Sabaoth  introivit}     Postremo   religiose   cavendum  locupletibus 
ne  proletariorum  compendiis  quicquam  noceant  nee  vi,  nee  dolo, 
nee  funebribus  artibus  :  idque  eo  vel  magis  quod  non  satis  illi 
sunt   contra  iniurias  atque  impotentiam  muniti,  eorumque  res, 
quo  exilior,  hoc  sanctior  habenda. 

1  lac.  V.  4. 


Document.  657 

His  obtemperatio  legibus  nonne  posset  vim  caussasque  dissidii 
-vel  sola  restinguere  ?  Sed  Ecclesia  tamen,  lesu  Cbristo  magistro 
,et  duce,  persequifcur  maiora  :  videlicet  perfectius  quidam  praeci- 
piendo,  illuc  spexjtat,  ut  alterum  ordinem  vicinitate  proxima 
amicitiaque  alteri  coniimgat.  Intelligere  atque  aestimare  mor- 
talia  ex  veritate  non  possumus,  nisi  dispexerit  animus  vitam 
alteram  eamque  immortalem :  qua  quidem  dempta,  continuo 
forma  ac  vera  notio  bonesti  interiret  :  immo  tota  baec  rerum 
.universitas  in  arcanum  abiret  nulli  hominum  investigationi 
■pervium.  Igitur,  quod  natura  ipsa  admonente  didicimus,  idem 
<logma  est  cbristianum,  quo  ratio  et  constitutio  tota  religionis 
tamquam  fundamento  principe  nititur,'  cum  ex  hac  vita  exces- 
serimus,  turn  vere  non  esse  victuros.  Neque  enim  Deus  bominem 
ad  ba^.  fyagilia  et  caduca,  sed  ad  caelestia  atque  aeterna  gene^ 
Tavit,  terramque  nobis  ut  exulandi  locum,  non  ut  sedem  habi- 
tandi  dedit.  Divitiis  ceterisque  rebus,  quae  appellantur  bona, 
affluas,  careas,  ad  aeternam  beatitudinem  nibil  interest :  quemadr 
modum  utare,  id  vero  maxime  interest.  Acerbitates  variaSj 
quibus  vita  mortalis  fere  contexitur  lesus  Christus  copiosa  redemii- 
tione  sua  nequaquam  sustulit,  sed  in  virtutum  incitamenta, 
materiamque  bene  merendi  traduxit  :  ita  plane  ut  nemo  morta- 
liiim  queat  praemia  sempiterna  capessere,  nisi  cruentis  lesu 
Christi  vestigiis  ingrediatur.  Si  sustinebwius,  et  conregnabimtts  ^ 
Laboribus  ille  et  cruciatibus  sponte  susceptis,  cruciatuum  et 
iaborem  mirifice  vim  delenivit  :  nee  solum  exemplo,  sed  gratia 
sua  perpetuaeque  mercedis  spe  proposita,  perpessionem  dolorum 
effecit  faciliorum  :  id  enim,  quod  in  praesenti  est  momentaneum  et 
leve  tribulationis  nostrae^  supra  modum  in  sublimitate  aeternum 
gloriae  pondus  operatur  in  nobis, ^ 

Itaque  fortunati  monentur,  non  vacuitatem  doloris  afferre,  nee 
^d  felicitatem  aevi  sempiterni  quicquam  prodesse  divitias  sed 
potius  obesse ;  3  terrori  locupletibus  esse  debere  lesu  Christy 
insuetas  minas  ;  ^  rationem  de .  usu  fortunarum  Deo  iudici 
severissime  aliquando  reddendam.  De  ipsis  opibus  utendis  excel- 
lens  ac  maximi  momenti  doctrina  est  quam  si  pbilosppbia  incor 
hatam,  at  Ecclesia  tradidit  perfectam  plane,  eademque  efficit  ut 
non  cognitione  tantum,  sed  moribus  teneatur.  Cuius  doctrinae 
in  eo  est  fundamentum  positum,  quod  iusta  possessio  pecuniarum 
a  iusto  pecuniarum  usu  distinguitur.     Bona  privatim  possidere, 

1  2  ad  Tim.  ii.  12.  ^  Matth.  xix.  23,  24. 

2  2  Cor.  iv.  17.  ^  Luc.  vi.  24,  25 

VOL.  XII.  2  T 


658  Document. 

quod  paulo  ante  vidimus,  ius  est  homini  naturale  :  eoque  uti  iure, 
maxime  in  societate  vitae,  non  fas  modo  est,  sed  plane  neces- 
sarium.  Licitum  est,  quod  homo  propria  possideat.  Et  est  etiam 
Ttiecessarium  ad  humanam  vitam}  At  vero  si  illud  quaeratur, 
qualem  esse  usum  bonorum  necesse  sit,  Ecclesia  quidem  sine  ulla 
dubitatione  respondet :  quantum  ad  hoc  non  debet  homo  habere  res 
exteriores  ut  proprias,  sed  ut  communes,  ut  scilicet  defaoili  aliquis 
eas  communicet  in  necessitate  aliorum.  Unde  Apostolus  dicit  : 
divitihus  huius  saeculi  praecipe  .  .  .  facile  tribuere,  commu- 
nicare.'^  Nemo  certe  opitulari  aliis  de  eo  iubetur,  quod  ad  usus 
pertineat  cum  suos  turn  suorum  necessarios  :  immo  nee  tradere 
aliis  quo  ipse  egeat  ad  id  servandum  quod  personae  conveniat, 
quodque  deceat :  nullus  enim  inconvenienter  vivere  debet,^  Sed 
iibi  necessitati  satis  et  decoro  datum,  officium  est  de  eo  quod 
superat  gratificari  indigentibus.  Quod  superest,  date  eleemosynam.^ 
Non  iustitiae,  excepto  in  rebus  extremis,  officia  ista  sunt,  sed 
caritatis  christianae,  quam  profecto  lege  agendo  petere  ius  non 
est.  Sed  legibus  iudiciisque  hominum  lex  antecedit  iudiciumque 
Christi  Dei,  qui  multis  modis  suadet  consuetudinem  largiendi ; 
beatius  est  magis  dare,  quam  accipere  :  ^  et  collatam  negatamve 
pauperibus  beneficentiam  perinde  est  ac  sibi  collatam  negatamve 
iudicaturus.  Quamdiu  fecistis  uni  ex  his  fratribus  meis  minimis, 
mihi  fecistis fi  Quarum  rerum  haec  summa  est ;  quicumque 
maiorem  copiam  bonorum  Dei  munere  accepit,  sive  corporis  et 
externa  sint,  sive  animi,  ob  banc  caussam  accepisse,  ut  ad  per- 
fectionem  sui  pariterque,  velut  minister  providentiae  divinae,  ad 
utilitates  adhibeat  ceterorum.  Habens  ergo  talentum,  curet 
omnino  ne  taceat  :  habens  rerum  affluentiam,  vigilet  ne  a  miseri- 
cordiae  largitate  torpescat  :  habens  artem  qua  regitur,  magnopere 
studeat  utusum  atque  utilitatem  illius  cum  proximo  par tiatur  J 

Bonis  autem  fortunae  qui  careant,  ii  ab  Ecclesia  perdocentur, 
non  probro  haberi,  Deo  iudice,  paupertatem,  nee  eo  pudendum, 
quod  victus  labore  quaeratur.  Idque  confirm avit  re  et  facto 
Christus  Dominus,  qui  pro  salute  hominum  egenus  factus  est,  cum 
esset  dives  ; «  cumque  esset  filius  Dei  ac  Deus  ipsemet,  videri  tamen 
ac  putari  fabri  filius  voluit  :  quin  etiam  magnam  vitae  partem 
in  opere  fabrili  consumere  non  recusavit.     Nonne  hie  est  faber, 

1 II-II  Quaest.  Ixvi.  a.  ii.  s  Actor,  xx.  35. 

2 11-11  Quaest.  Ixv.  a.  ii.  e  Matth.  xxv.  40. 

8 II-II  Quaest.  xxxii.  a,  vi.  ^  s,  Greg.  Magn.  in  Evang.    Horn,  ix.  n.  7, 

4  Luc.  xi.  41.  8  2  Corinth,  viii.  9, 


Document.  659 

filius  Marias  ?  ^  Huius  divinitatem  exempli  intuentibus,  ea 
facilins  intelliguntur  :  veram  hominis  dignitatem  atque  excel- 
lentiam  in  moribus  esse,  hoc  est  in  virtute,  positam ;  virtutem 
vero  commune  mortalibus  patrimonium,  imis  et  summis,  divitibus 
et  proletariis  aeque  parabile  :  nee  aliud  quippiam  quam  virtutes 
et  merita,  in  quocumque  reperiantur,  mercedem  beatitudinis 
aeternae  sequuturum.  Immo  vero  in  calamitosorum  genus  pro- 
pensior  Dei  ipsius  videtur  voluntas  ;  beatos  enim  lesus  Christus 
nuncupat  pauperesj:^  invitat  peramanter  ad  se,  solatii  caussa,  qui- 
cumque  in  labore  sint  ac  luctu :  ^  iniimos  et  iniuria  vexatos 
complectitur  caritate|praecipua.  Quarum  cognitione  rerum  facile 
in  fortunatis  deprimitur  tumens  animus,  in  aerumnosis  demissus 
extollitur :  alteri  ad  facilitatem,  alteri  ad  modestiam  flectuntur. 
Sic  eupitum  superbiae  intervallum  efficitur  brevius,  nee  difficulter 
impetrabitur  ut  ordinis  utriusque,  iunctis  amice  dextris,  copu- 
lentur  voluntates. 

Quos  tamen,  si  christianis  praeceptis  paruerint,  parum  est 
amicitia,  amor  etiam  fraternus  inter  se  coniugabit.  Sentient 
enim  et  intelligent,  omnes  plane  homines  a  communi  parente  Deo 
procreatos  :  omnes'ad  eumden  finem  bonorum  tendere,  qui  Deus 
est  ipse,  qui  afficere  beatitudine  perfecta  atque  absoluta  et 
homines  et  Angelos  unus  potest :  singulos  item  pariter  esse  lesu 
Christi  beneficio  redemptos  et  in  dignitatem  filiorum  Dei  vindi- 
catos,  ut  plane  necessitudine  fraterna  cum  inter  se  tum  etiam 
cum  Christo  Domino,  primogenito  in  multis  fratribus,  conti- 
neantur.  Item  naturae  bona,  munera  gratiae  divinae  pertinere 
communiter  et  promiscue  ad  genus  hominum  universum,  nee 
quemquam,  nisi  indignum,  bonorum  caelestium  fieri  exheredem. 
Si  autem  filii,  et  heredes  :  heredes  qiiidem  Dei,  coheredes  autem 
Christi} 

Talis  est  forma  officiorum  ac  iurium,  quam  Christiana  philo- 
sophia  profitetur.  Nonne  quieturum  perbrevi  tempore  certamen 
omne  videatur,  ubi  ilia  in  civili  convictu  valeret  ? 

Denique  nee  satis  habet  Ecclesia  via  inveniendae  curationis 
ostendere,  sed  admovet  sua  manu  medicinam.  Nam  tota  in  eo 
est  ut  ad  disciplinam  doctrinamque  suam  excolat  homines  atque 


^Marc.  vi.  3. 

'-'  Matth.  V.  3  :  Beati  pmipcres  spirit  a. 

^Matth.  xi.  28  ;   Verdte  ad  me  onmes,  qui  lahoratis  et  ojierati  eslis,  et  ejo 
reficiam  vos. 

*  Kom.  viii.  17. 


^660  Document. 

'instituat:  cuius  doctrinae  saluberrimos  rivos,  Episcoporum  et 
Cleri  opera,  quam  latissime  potest,  curat  deducendos.  Deinde 
pervadere  in  animos  nititur  flectereque  voluntates,  ut  divinorum 
disciplina  praeceptorum  regi  se  gubernarique  patiantur.  Atque 
in  hac  parte,  quae  princeps  est  ac  permagni  momenti,  quia 
summa  utilitatum  caussaque  tota  in  ipsa  consistit,  Ecclesia  quidem 
una  potest  maxirne.  Quibus  enim  instrumentis  ad  permovendos 
animos  utitur,  ea  sibi  banc  ipsam  ob  caussam  tradita  a  lesu  Christo 
sunt,  virtutemque  habent  divinitus  insitam.  Istiusmodi  instru- 
nienta  sola  sunt,  quae  cordis  attingere  penetrales  sirius  aptfe 
queant,  hominemque  adducere  ut  obedientem  se  praebeat  officio 
motus  animi  appetentis  regat,  Deum  et  proximos  caritate  diligat 
isingulari  ac  summa,  omniaque  animose  perrumpat,  quae  virtutis 
impediunt  cursum.  Satis  est  in  hoc  genere  exempla  veterum 
paulisper  cogitatione  repetere.  Ees  et  facta  commemoramus, 
quae  dubitatipnem  nullam  habent :  scilicet  civilem  homiiiurn 
communitatem  funditus  esse  institutis  christianis  renovatam  : 
huiusce  virtute  renovationis  ad  meliora  promotum  genus 
humanum,  immo  revocatura  ab  interitu  ad  vitam,  auctumque 
perfectione  tanta,  ut  nee  extiterit  uUa  antea,  nee  sit  in  omnes 
consequentes  aetates  futura  maior,  Denique  lesum  Christum 
horum  esse  beneficiorum  principium  eumdem  et  finem  :  ut  ab  eo 
profecta,  sic  ad  eum  omnia  referenda.  Nimirum  accepta  Evan- 
gelii  luce,  cum  incarnationis  Verbi  hominumque  redemptionis 
grande  mysterium  orbis  terrarum  didicisset,  vita  lesu  Christi  Dei 
et  hominis  pervasit  civitates,  eiusque  fide  et  praeceptis  et  legibus 
totas  imbuit.  Quare  si  societati  generis  humani  medendum  est, 
'revocatio  vitae  institutorumque  christianorum  sola  medebitur. 
De  societatibus  enim  dilabentibus  illud  rectissime  praecipitur, 
revocari  ad  origines  suas,  cum  restitui  volunt,  oportere.  Haec 
enim  omnium  consociationum  perfectio  est,  de  eo  laborare  idque 
assequi,  cuius  gratia  institutae  sunt :  ita  ut'  motus  actusque 
sociales  eadem  caussa  pariat,  quae  peperit  societatem.  Quamo- 
brem  declinare  ab  instituto,  corruptio  est :  ad  institutum  redire, 
sanatio.  Verissimeque  id  quemadmodum  de  toto  reipublicae 
corpore,  eodem  modo  de  illo  ordine  civium  dicimus,  qui  vitam 
sustentant  opere,  quae  est  longe  maxima  multitudo. 

Nee  tamen  putandum,  in  colendis  animis  totas  esse  Ecclesiae 
curas  ita  defixas,  ut  ea  negligat  quae  ad  vitam  pertinent  morta- 
lem  ac  terrenam.  De  proletariis  nominatim  vult  et  contendit  ut 
emergant  e  miserrimo  statu  fortunamque  meliorera  adipiscantur. 


Document,  661 

Atque  in  id  confert  hoc  ipso  operam  non  mediocrem,  quod  vocat 
et  instituit  homines  ad  virtutem.  Mores  enim  christiani,  ubi 
serventur  integri,  partem  ahquam  prosperitatis  sua  sponte  pariunt 
rebus  externis,  quia  conciliant  principium  ac  fontera  omnium 
bonorum  Deum :  coercent  geminas  vitae  pestes,  quae  nimium 
saepe  hominem  efficiunt  in  ipsa  opum  abundantia  miserum, 
rerum  appetentiam  nimiam  et  voluptatum  sitim :  ^  contenti 
denique  cultu  victuque  frugi,  vectigal  parsimonia  supplent,  procul 
a  vitiis,  quae  non  modo  exiguas  pecunias,  sed  maximas  etiam 
copias  exhauriunt,  et  lauta  patrimonia  dissipant.  Sed  praeterea, 
ut  bene  habeant  proletarii,  recta  providet,  instituendis  foven- 
disque  rebus,  quas  ad  sublevandam  eorum  inopiam  inteUigat 
conducibiles.  Quin  in  hoc  etiam  genere  beneficiorum  ita  semper 
excelluit,  ut  ab  ipsis  inimicis  praedicatione  efferatur.  Ea  vis  erat 
apud  vetustissimos  christianos  caritatis  mutuae,  ut  persaepe  sua 
sereprivarent,  opitulandi  caussa,  divitiores  :  quamobrem  7ieg^ie  . ,  . 
quisquam  egens  erat  inter  illos}  Diaconis,  in  id  nominatim  ordine 
instituto,  datum  ab  Apostolis  negotium,  ut  quotidianae  benefi- 
centiae  exercerent  munia :  ac  Paulus  Apostolus,  etsi  sollicitudine 
districtus  omnium  flcclesiarum,  nihilominus  dare  se  in  laboriosa 
itinera  non  dubitavit,  quo  ad  tenuiores  christianos  stipem  prae- 
sens  afferret.  Cuius  generis  pecunias,  a  christianis  in  unoquoque 
conventu  ultro  collatas,  deposita  pietatis  nuncupat  Tertulhanus, 
quod  sciUcet  insumerentur  egenis  alenclis  hwnandisque,  et  pueris 
ac  puellis  re  ac  parentihus  destitutis,  inque  domesticis  senihus 
item  naufragis.'^  Hinc  sensim  illud  extitit  patrimonium,  quod 
reUgiosa  cura  tamquam  rem  familiarem  indigentium  Ecclesia 
custodivit.  Immo  vero  subsidia  miserae  plebi,  remissa  rogandi 
verecundia,  comparavit.  Nam  et  locupletium  et  indigentium 
communis  parens,  excitata  ubique  ad  excellentem  magnitudinem 
caritate,  collegia  condidit  sodalium  religiosorum,  aliaque  utiliter 
permulta  instituit,  quibus  opem  ferentibu.s,  genus  miseriarum 
prope  nullum  esset,  quod  eodem  modo  fecere  olim  ethnici,  ad 
arguendam  transgrediuntur  Ecclesiam  huius  etiam  tam  egregiae 
caritatis  :  cuius  in  locum  subrogare  visum  est  constitutam  legibus 
publicis  beneficentiam.  Sed  quae  christianam  caritatem  sup- 
pleant,  totam  se  ad  alienas  porrigentem  utilitates,  artes  humanae 


Badix  omnium  vialorum  est  cupiditas.     1  Tim.  vi.  10. 

A^LH.3^''  ':mm  ^^s^^^v^^^^ 


562  Document 

nullae  reperientur.  Ecclesiae  solius  est  ilia  virtus,  quia  nisi  a 
sacratissimo  lesu  Christi  corde  ducitar,  nulla  est  uspiam  :  vagatur 
autem  a  Christo  longius,  quicumque  ab  Ecclesia  discesserit. 

At  vero  non  potest  esse  dubium  quin,  ad  id  quod  est  propo- 
situm,  ea  quoque,  quae  in  hominum  potestate  sunt,  adjumenta 
requirantur.  Omnino  omnes,  ad  quos  caussa  pertinet,  eodem 
intendant  idemque  laborent  pro  rata  parte  necesse  est.  Quod 
habet  quamdam  cum  moderatrice  mundi  providentia  similitu- 
dinem  :  fere  enim  videmus  rerum  exitus  a  quibus  caussis  pendent, 
ex  earum  omnium  conspiratione  procedere. 

Jam  vero  quota  pars  remedii  a  republica  expectanda  sit, 
praestat  exquirere.  Eempublicam  hoc  loco  intelligimus  non 
quali  populus  utitur  unus  vel  alter,  sed  qualem  et  vult  recta  ratio 
naturae  congruens,  et  probant  divinae  documenta  sapientiae,  quae 
Nos  ipsi  nominatim  in  litteris  Encyclicis  de  civitatum  constitu- 
tione  Christiana  explicavimus.  Itaque  per  quos  civitas  regitur, 
primum  conferre  operam  generatim  atque  universe  debent  tota 
ratione  legum  atque  institutorum,  scilicet  efficiendo  ut  ex  ipsa 
conformatione  atque  administratione  reipublicae  ultro  prosperitas 
tarn  communitatis  quam  privatorum  efi&lorescat.  Id  est  enim  civilis 
prudentiae  munis  propriumque  eorum  qui  praesunt,  ofl&cium. 
Nunc  vero  ilia  maxime  efficiunt  prosperas  civitates,  morum 
probitas,  recte  atque  ordine  constitutae  familiae,  custodia  reli- 
gionis  ac  justitiae,  onerum  publicorum  cum  moderata  irrogatio, 
tum  aeque  partitio,  incrementa  artium  et  mercaturae,  florens 
agrorum  cultura,  et  si  qua  sunt  alia  generis  ejusdem,  quae  quo 
majore  studio  provehuntur,  eo  melius  sunt  victiiri  cives  et  beatius. 
Harum  igitur  virtute  rerum  in  potestate  rectorum  civitatis  est 
ut  ceteris  prodesse  ordinibus,  sic  et  proletariorum  conditionem 
juvare  plurimum  :  idque  jure  suo  optimo,  neque  ulla  cum  impor- 
tunitatis  suspicione  :  debet  enim  respublica  ex  lege  muneris  sui 
in  commune  consulere.  Quo  autem  commodorum  copia  provenerit 
ex  hac  generali  providentia  maior,  eo  minus  oportebit,  alias  ad 
opificum  salutem  expiriri  vias. 

Sed  illud  praeterea  considerandum,  quod  rem  altius  attingit, 
unam  civitatis  esse  rationem,  communem  summorum  atque 
infimorum.  Sunt  nimirum  proletarii  pari  jure  cum  locupletibus 
natura  cives,  hoc  est  partes  verae  vitamque  viventes,  unde  constat, 
interjectis  familiis,  corpus  republicae :  ut  ne  illud  adjungatur,  in 
omni  urbe  eos  esse  numero  longe  maximo*  Cum  igitur  illud  sit 
perabsurdum,  parti  civium  consulere,  parteiii   negligere,  conse" 


l)ocumeni.  663 

quitur,  in  salute  commodisque  ordinis  prole fcariorum  tuendis 
curas  debitas  collocari  publice  oportere  :  ni  fiat,  violatum  iri  jus- 
titiam,  suum  cuique  tribuere  praecipientem.  Qua  de  re  sapienter 
S.  Thomas :  siciit  pars  et  totum  quodammodo  stmt  idem,  ita  id, 
qiLod  est  totius,  quadammodo  est  partis}  Proinde  in  officiis  non 
paucis  neque  levibus  populo  bene  consulentium  principum,  illud  in 
primis  eminet,  ut  unumquemque  civium  ordinem  aequabiliter  tue- 
antar,  ea  nimirum  quae  distributiva  appellatur,  justitia  inviolate 
servanda. 

Quamvis  autem  cives  universos,  nemine  excepto,  conferre 
aliquid  in  summam  bonorum  communium  necesse  sit,  quorum 
aliqua  pars  virilis  sponte  recidit  in  singulos,  tamen  idem  et 
ex  aequo  conferre  nequaquam  possunt.  Qualescumque  sint  in 
imperii  generibus  vicissitudines,  perpetua  futura  sunt  ea 
in  civium  statu  discrimina,  sine  quibus  nee  esse,  nee  cogitari 
societas  ulla  posset.  Omnino  necesse  est  quosdam  reperiri,  qui 
e  reipublicae  dedant,  qui  leges  condant,  qui  jus  dicant,  denique 
quorum  consilio  atque,  auctoritate  negotia  urbana,  res  bellicae 
administrentur.  Quorum  virorum  priores  esse  partes,  eosque 
habendos  in  omni  populo  primarios,  nemo  non  videt,  propterea 
quod  communi  bono  dant  operam  proxime  atque  excellenti 
ratione.  Contra  vero  qui  in  arte  aliqua  exercentur,  non  ea,  qua 
illi,  ratione  nee  iisdem  muneribus  prosunt  civitati :  sed  tamen 
plurimum  et  ipsi,  quamquam  minus  directe,  utilitati  publicae 
inserviunt.  Sane  sociale  bonum  cum  debeat  esse  ejusmodi,  ut 
homines  ejus  fiant  adeptione  meliores,  est  profecto  in  virtute 
praecipue  collocandum.  Nihilominus  ad  bene  constitutam  civi- 
tatem  suppeditatio  quoque  pertinot  bonorum  corporis  atque  exter- 
norum,  quorum  usus  est  necessarius  ad  actum  virtutis.'^  lamvero 
his  pariendis  bonis  est  proletariorum  maxime  efficax  ac  necessa- 
rius labor,  sive  in  agris  artem  atque  manum,  sive  in  ofiQcinis 
exerceant.  Immo  eorum  in  hoc  genere  vis  est  atque  efficientia 
tanta,  ut  illud  verissimum  sit,  non  aliunde  quam  ex  opificum 
labore  gigni  divitias  civitatum.  Jubet  igitur  aequitas  curam  de 
proletario  publice  geri,  ut  ex  eo,  quod  in  communem  effert  utili- 
tatem,  percipiat  ipse  aliquid,  ut  tectus,  ut  vestitus,  ut  salvua 
vitam  tolerare  minus  aegre  possit.  Unde  consequitur,  favendum 
rebus  omnibus  esse  quae  condition!  opificum  quoquo  modo 
videantur  profuturae.    Quae  cura  tantum  abest  ut  noceat  cuiquam, 

» II-II.  Quaest.  bd.  a.  1.  ad.  2. 

2  S.  Thorn.  De  Reg.  Princip.  i.  c.  xv. 


6'&4  Docwyient. 

ufcpotius  profutura  sit  umversis,  quia  noii  esse  omnibus  modis  ebs  - 
miseros,   a   quibus  tarn  necessaria  bona  proficiscuntur,  prorsus 
interest  reipublicae. 

Non  civem,  ut  diximus,  non  familiam  absorberi  a-  republica 
rectum  est :  suam  utrique  facultatem  agendi  cum  libertate  per- 
mittere  aequum  est,  quantum  incolumni  bono  communi  et  sine 
cujusquam  injuria  potest.  Nihilominus  eis,  qui  imperant,  viden- 
dum  ut  communitatem  ej  usque  partes  tueantur.  Communitatem 
qnidem,  quippe  quam  summae  potestati  conservandam  natura 
commisit  usque  eo,  ut  publicae  custodia  salutis  non  modo  suprema 
lex,  sed  tota  caussa  sit  ratioque  principatus  :  partes  vefo,  quia 
procurationem,  reipublicae  non  ad  utilitatem  eorum,  quibus  com- 
missa  est,  sed  ad  eorum,  qui  commissi  sunt,  natura  pertinere, 
philosophia  pariter  et  fides  Christiana  coiisentiunt.  Cumque 
imperandi  facultas  proficiscatur  a  Deo,  ej  usque  sit  communic^tio  " 
quaedam  summi  principatus,  gerenda  ad  exemplar  est  potestatis 
divinae,  non  minus  rebus  singulis  quam  universis  cura  paterna 
consulentis.  Si  quid  igitur  detrimenti  allatum  sit  aut  impendeat 
rebus  communibus,  aut  singulorum  ordinum  rationibus,  quod 
sanari  aut  prohiberi  alia  ratione  non  possit,  obviam  iri  auctoritate 
publica  necesse  est.  Atqui  interest  salutis  tum  publicae,  turn 
privatae  pacatas  esse  res  et  compositas :  item  dirigi  ad  Dei  iussa 
naturaeque  principia  omnem  convictus  domestici  disciplinam  : 
observari  et  coli  religionem  :  florere  privatim  ac  publice  mores 
integros  :  sanctam  retineri  justitiam,  nee  alteros  ab  alteris  impune 
violari :  valides  adolescere  cives,  iuvandae  tutandaeque,  si  res 
ppstulet,  civitati  idoneos.  Quamobrem  si  quando  fiat,  ut  quip- 
piam  turbarum  impendeat  ob  secessionem  opificum,  aut  inter- 
missas  ex  composito  operas :  ut  naturalia  familiae  nexa  apud 
proletarios  relaxentur :  ut  religio  in  opificibus  violetur  non  satis 
impertiendo  commodi  ad  officia  pietatis  :  si  periculum  in  officinis 
integritati  morum  ingruat  a  sexu  promiscuo,  aliisve  perniciosis 
invitamentis  peccandi :  aut  opificum  ordinem  herilis  ordo  iniquis 
premat  oneribus,  vel  alienis  a  persona  ac  dignitate  humana  con- 
ditionibus  affligat :  si  valetudini  noceatur  opere  immodico,  nee  ad 
sexum  astatemve  accommodato,  his  in  caussis  plane  adhibenda, 
certos  intra  .fines,  vis  et  auctoritas  legum.  Quos  fines  eadem, 
quae  legum  poscit  opem,  caussa  deternjinat :  videlicet  non  plura 
suscipienda  legibus,  nee  ultra  progrediendum,  quam  jlncommo-^, 
dorum,  sanatio,  vel  periculi  depulsio  requirat. 

Jura  quidem,   in   quocumque   sint,    sancte    servanda   sunt: 


Document.  6G5C 

atque  ut  suum  singuli  teneanfc,  debet  potestas  pnblica  providere,  ■; 
ptopulsandis  atque  ulciscendis  iniuriis.  Nisi  quod  in  ipsis  pro-  ^ 
tegendis  privatorum  iuribus,  praecipue  est  infimorum  atque 
inopum  habenda  ratio.  Siquidem  natio  divitum,  suis  septa 
praesidiis,  minus  eget  tutela  publica :  miserum  vulgus,  nuUis 
opibus  suis  tutum,  in  patrocinio  reipublicae  maxime  nititur. 
Quocirca  mercenarios,  cum  in  multitudine  egena  numerentur 
debet  cura  providentiaque  singulari  complecti  respublica. 

Sed  quaedam  maioris  momenti  praestat  nominatim  per- 
stringere.  Caput  autem  est,  imperio  ac  munimento  legum  tutari 
pnvatas  possessiones  oportere.  Potissimumque,  in  tanto  iam 
cupiditatum  ardore,  continenda  in  officio  plebs :  nam  si  ad 
meiiora  contendere  concessum  est  non  repugnante  iustitia,  at 
alteri,  quod  suum  est,  detrahere,  ac  per  speciem  absurdae  cuius- 
dam  aequabilitatis  in  for  tunas  alienas  involare,  iustitia  vetat,  nee 
ipsa  communis  utilitatis  ratio  sinit.  Utique  pars  opificum  longe 
maxima  res  meliores  honesto  labore  comparare  sine  [cuiusquara 
iniuria  malunt :  verumtamen  non  pauci  numerantur  pravis  imbuti 
opinionibus  reruraque  novarum  cupidi,  qui  id  agunt  omni  ratione 
ut  turbas  moveant,  ac  ceteros  ad  vim  impellant.  Intersit  igitur 
reipublicae  auctoritas,  iniectoque  concitatoribus  freno,  ab  opificum 
n\oribus  corruptrices  artes,  a  legitimis  dominis  periculum  rapi- 
narum  coerceat. 

Longinquior  vel  operosior  labos,  atque  opinatio  curtae  mercedis 
caussam  non  raro  dant  artificibus  quamobrem  opere  se  solvant  ex 
composito,  otioque  dedant  voluntario.  Cui  quidem  incommodo 
usitato  et  gravi  medendum  pub  lice,  quia  genus  istud  cessationis 
non  heros  damtaxat,  atque  opifices  ipsos  afficit  damno,  sed  mer- 
caturis  obest  reique  publicae  utilitatibus  :  cumque  baud  procul 
esse  a  vi  turbisque  soleat,  saepenumero  tranquillitatem  publicam 
in  discrimen  adducit.  Qua  in  re  illud  magis  efficax  ac  salubre, 
antevertere  auctoritate  legum,  malumque  ne  crumpere  possit 
prohibere,  amotis  mature  caussis,  unde  dominorum  atque  opera-- 
riorum  conflictus  vidcatur  extituris.  '     ' 

Similique  modo  plura  sunt  in  opifice,  praesidio  munienda 
reipublicae:  ac  primum  animi  bono.  Siquidem  vita  mortalis 
quantum  vis  bona  et  optabilis,  non  ipsa  tamen  illud  est  ultimum, 
ad  quod  nati  sumus :  sed  via  tantummodo  atque  instrumentum;^ 
ad  animi  vftam  perspicientia  veri  et  amore  boni  complendam» 
Animus  est,  qui  expressam  gerit  imaginem  similitudinemque 
divinam,  et  in  quo  principatus  ille  residet,  per  qnem  dominari 


666  Document. 

iussus  est  homo  in  inferiores  naturas,  atque  efficere  utilitati  suae 
terras  omnes  et  maria  parentia.  Beplete  terram  et  subiicite  earn  : 
et  dominamini  piscibus  maris  et  volatilibus  coeli  et  universis 
animantibus  quae  moventur  super  terravi.  Sunt  omnes  homines 
hac  in  re  pares,  nee  quippiam  est  quod  inter  divites  atque  inopes, 
inter  dominos  et  famulos,  inter  principes  privatosque  differat : 
nam  idem  dominus  omnium}  Nemini  licet  hominus  dignitatem, 
de  qua  Deus  ipse  disponit  cum  magna  reverentia,  impune  violare, 
neque  ad  earn  perfectionem  impedire  cursum,  quae  sit  vitae  in 
caelis  sempiternae  consentanea.  Quin  etiam  in  hoc  genere 
tractari  se  non  convenienter  naturae  suae,  animique  servitutem 
S3rvire  velle,  ne  sua  quidem  sponte  homo  potest :  neque  enim  de 
iuribus  agitur,  de  quibus  sit  integrum  homini,  verum  de  officiis 
adversus  Deum,  quae  necesse  est  sancte  servari. 

Hinc  consequitur  requies  operum  et  laborem  per  festos  dies 
necessaria.  Id  tamen  nemo  intelUgat  de  maiore  quadam  inertis 
otii  usura,  multoque  minus  de  cessatione,  qualem  multi  expetunt, 
fautrice  vitiorum  et  ad  effusiones  pecuniarum  adiutrice,  sed 
omnino  de  requiete  operum  per  rehgionem  consecrata.  Con- 
juncta  cum  reUgione  quies  sevocat  hominem  a  laboribus  nego- 
tiisque  vitae  quotidianae  ut  ad  cogitanda  revocet  bona  caelestia, 
tribuendumque  cultum  numini  aeterno  iustum  ac  debitum.  Haec 
maxime  natura  atque  haec  caussa  quietis  est  in  dies  festos 
capiendae :  quod  Deus  et  in  Testamento  veteri  praecipua  lege 
sanxit  :  Memento  ut  diem  sabbati  sanctifices ;  ^  et  facto  ipse  suo 
docuit,  arcana  requiete,  statim  posteaquam  fabricatos  hominem 
erat,  sumpta :  Bequievit  die  septimo  ah  universo  opere  quod 
patrarat} 

Quod  ad  tutelam  bonorum  corporis  et  externorum,  primum 
omnium  eripere  miseros  opifices  e  saevitia  oportet  hominum 
cupidorum,  personis  pro  rebus  ad  quaestum  intemperanter 
abutentium.  Scilicet  tantum  exigi  operis,  ut  hebescat  animus 
labore  nimio,  unaque  corpus  defatigationi  succumbat,  non  iustitia, 
non  humanitas  patitur.  In  homine,  sicut  omnis  natura  sua,  ita 
et  vis  eflSiciens  certis  est  circumscripta  finibus,  extra  quos  egredi 
non  potest.  Acuitur  ilia  quidem  exercitatione  atque  usu,  sed  hac 
tamen  lege  ut  agere  intermittat  identidem  et  acquiescat.  De 
quotidiano  igitur  opere  videndum  ne  in  plures  extrahatur  horas, 
quam  vires  sinant.     Intervalla  vero  quiescendi  quanta  esse  opor- 

1  Gen.  i.  28.  » Exod.  xx,  8. 

*  Rom.  X.  12.  *  Gen.  ii.  2. 


Document,  667 

teat,  ex  vario  genere  operis,  ex  adjunctis  temporum  et  locorum, 
ex  ipsa  opificum  valetudine  iudicandum.  Quorum  est  opus 
lapidem  e  terra  excindere,  aut  ferrum,  aes,  aliaque  id  genus 
effodere  penitus  abdita,  eorum  labor,  quia  multo  maior  est 
idemque  valetudini  gravis,  cum  brevitate  temporis  est  compen- 
sandus.  Anni  quoque  dispicienda  tempora  :  quia  non  raro  idem 
operae  genus  alio  tempore  facile  est  ad  tolerandum,  alio  aut 
tolerari  nulla  ratione  potest,  aut  sine  summa  difficultate  non 
potest. 

Denique  quod  facere  enitique  vir  adulta  aetate  beneque 
validus  potest,  id  a  femina  puerove  non  est  aequum  postulare. 
Immo  de  pueris  valde  cavendum,  ne  prius  officina  capiat,  quam 
corpus,  ingenium,  animum  satis  firmaverit  aetas.  Erumpentes 
enim  in  pueritia  vires,  velut  herbescentem  viriditatem,  agitatio 
praecox  elidit ;  qua  ex  re  omnis  est  institutio  puerilis  interitura. 
Sic  certa  quaedam  artificia  minus  apte  conveniunt  in  feminas  ad 
opera  domestica  natas  :  quae  quidem  opera  et  tuentur,  magnopere 
in  muliebri  genere  decus,  et  liberorum  institutioni  prosperitatique 
familiae  natura  respondent.  Universe  autem  statuatur,  tantum 
esse  opificibus  tribuendum  otii,  quantum  cum  viribus  compensetur 
labore  consumptis ;  quia  detritas  usu  vires  debet  cessatio  restituere. 
In  omni  obligatione,  qua  dominis  atque  artificibus  invicem  con- 
trahatur,  haec  semper  aut  adscripta  aut  tacita  conditio  inest, 
utrique  generi  quiescendi  ut  cautum  sit :  neque  enim  honestum 
esset  convenire  secus,  quia  nee  postulare  cuiquam  fas  est,  nee 
spondere  neglectum  ofliciorum,  quae  vel  Deo  vel  sibimetipsi 
hominem  obstringunt. 

(To  he  continued.) 


^,...  [  -  668  „].. 


IRoticee  of  Booh^. 


Life  of  Blessed  John  Fishee,  Bishop  of  Kochesteej 
Caedinal  of  the  Holy  Eoman  Chuech,Maetye  undee 
Heney  VIII.       By  the   Eev.    T.   E.  Bridgett,  C.SS.E. 
■    London :  Burns  &  Gates. 

Life  and  Weitings  of  Sie  Thomas  Moee,  Loed  Chan- 
CELLOE  OF  England,  AND  Maetye  undee  Heney  YIII. 
.    By  the   Kev.  T.  E.  Bridgett,  C.SS^E.      London:  Burns 
&  Gates. 

Father  Bridgett  has  rendered  incomparable  service  to  the 
Cathohc  Church  in  England  by  the  publication  of  these  two 
beautiful  biographies.  The  respectable  Protestants  of  our  time 
who  have  set  their  consciences  to  rest  with  the  comfortable 
theory  that  whoever  was  responsible  for  the  establishment  of 
Protestantism  in  the  past,  there  they  find  it  to-day,  and  there  it 
must  remain,  and  that  they  can  serve  God  in  it  as  faithfully  as 
elsewhere,  must  receive  a  rude  awakening  should  these  two 
comely  volumes  fall  into  their  hands. 

The  author  of  the  Lives  of  these  two  great  saints  does  not  enter 
professionally  into  the  general  history  of  the  times  with  which  he 
deals.  His  works  are  essentially  biographies.  They  keep  to  the 
subject  all  through,  without  digressions  or  dissertations  upon 
habits,  customs^  and  characters  that  are  not  immediately  con- 
cerned. And  yet  when  one  has  got  through  these  two  volumes 
he  has  acquired  a  deeper  insight  into  the  doings  of  that  ill-fated 
time  than  can  be  obtained  from  most  histories.  And  Father 
Bridgett  is  always  a  safe  guide.  He  sifts  documents,  opinions, 
and  judgments  with  the  skill  of  a  practised  critic.  He  always 
gives  solid  proofs  'when  there  is  a  point  of  controversy,  and  uses 
the  advantages  of  his  position  with  splendid  force  and  effect.  But 
a  more  lasting  gain  than  any  which  accrues  of  a  literary  or 
historic  kind  is  the  deep  mark,  the  profound  and  enduring  im- 
pression on  the  soul  which  anyone"  must  experience  w^ho  reads 
these  volumes.  They  present  to  us  the  acts  and  achievements  of 
two  of  the  noblest  characters  that  ever  adorned  the  annals  of 
Church  or  State*  We  should  like  to  quote  many  extracts  from 
these  two  volumes.  Unfortunately,  space  will  not  allow  us  to 
indulge  our  desire.     All  the  more  heartily,  therefore,  do  we  com- 


ISfoticesofBooJcs.  669 

mend  the  works  themselves.  They  will  not  only  repay  perusal 
from  a  literary  and  historical  point  of  view,  but  they  will,  win  the 
admiration  and  love  of  every  reader  for  the  two,  brave  men  who 
stood  firm  to  the. last  in  Catholic  loyalty  and  faith,  and  whose  pure 
and  noble  lives  shine  resplendent  in  the  midst  of  §o^  much 
corruption  and  treachery.  "'      .     '^ 

•  J.  F.H.     ' 

The  Visible  and  Invisible  Woelds.  ByEev.  J.  W.  Vahey 
Eidgeway,  Wisconsin.  Milwaukee  :  Hoffman  Brothers.  ■■ 
«:  •'  This  work  embraces  a  vast  variety  of  subjects.  It  deals  with 
^the  infinitely  great  and  the  infinitely  little.  In  about  two  hundred 
and  seventy  pages  it  undertakes  to  discuss  and  to  solve  some  of 
•the  weightiest  problems  that  ever  presented  themselves  to  the 
human  mind.  .  Atheists,  Pantheists,  Agnostics,  Positivists,  Free- 
thinkers, Evolutionists,  Socialists,  Communists,  are  all 
passed  in  review;  and  then  we  have  the  origin  of  the 
civil  power  and  the  divine  right  of  kings;  we  have 
capital  and  labour;  monopolies  and  trusts  ;  the  solar  system; 
gravitation;  the  stars  and  the  asteroids;  comets  and  their 
chemistry  ;  angels  and  saints ;  purgatory,  hell,  and  heaven  ;  God 
and  Christianity — everything,  in  fact,  that  is  comprised  under  the 
range  of  visible  a,nd  mvisible.  The  work  is,  indeed,  a  'Vstimma  " 
.of  human  knowledge,  on  a  small  scale,  and  malicious  persons 
might  be  tempted  to  suspect  that  it  is  also  a  "summa"  of  the 
author 'sr on  a  large  one.  However,  the  people  on  the  spot  are, 
doub'ties3,  the  best  judges  of  the  requirements  of  their  country, 
.and- we  can  well  unders-tand  that  such  a  work  as  this  may  be  of 
.service  in  America  It  labours  under  the  defect  which  is  common 
to  most  works  of  the  kind — that  errors  and  objections  are  clearly 
and  forcibly  put,  whilst  the  answers  are  often  involved  and  not 
quite  so  intelligible.  It  is  written  in  an  excellent  spirit,  and,  as 
the  author  says  in  the  preface,  should  the  Church  pronounce 
against  any  of  its  opinions,  he  "will  consider  the  same  a;S 
erroneous." 

J.  R  H.  ; 

Valentine  Eiant.  A  Eeview  of  "Notes  and  Eecollection^ 
from  1860-1879."  By  W.  J.  Anherst,  S.J.  London- 
Burns  &  Gates.  New  York  :  Catholic  Publication  Society. 
This    andsome  little  work  of  114  pages  has  been  written  for  the 

express  purpose  of  calling  attention  to  the  life  of  Valentine  Biant, 


670  Notices  of  Boohs, 

contained  in  a  work  entitled  Notes  and  Becollections  from  1860- 
1879,  translated  from  the  French  by  Lady  Herbert.  Copies 
of  Lady  Herbert's  translation  may  be  obtained  at  the  Convent  of 
Marie  Eeparatrice,  Horley  House,  Marylebone  Eoad,  London. 

The  memoir  has  been  compiled  in  order  to  give  to  the  reading 
public  a  perfect  example  of  Christian  chivalry  in  the  nineteenth 
century,  whose  words  and  works  may  be  studied  and  imitated  by  the 
youth  of  the  Christian  world.  The  rev.  reviewer,  while  referring  us 
to  Lady  Herbert's  translation  for  fuller  and  more  ample  details  con- 
cerning the  too  short  life  of  Mdlle.  Riant,  manages  to  communi- 
cate just  so  much  information  as  makes  us  desirous  of  obtaining 
more.  Reading  the  lives  of  those  who  have  been  remarkable  in 
any  age  as  faithful  followers  of  Christ,  is,  no  doubt,  most  edifying 
and  instructive ;  but  we  agree  with  the  reviewer,  that  there  is 
another  heroism  besides  that  which  is  displayed  by  the  martyr  at 
the  stake  or  on  the  scaffold,  and  this  heroism  consists  in  utter  and 
absolute  devotion  of  one's  whole  life  to  God's  service,  whether  in 
religion  or  in  the  world.  Such  a  heroine  was  Mdlle.  Riant,  and 
the  story  of  her  short  life  and  of  her  many  virtues  cannot  fail  to 
exercise  the  most  salutary  influence  on  the  minds  and  hearts  of 
her  contemporaries. 

Special  Devotion  to  the  Holy  Ghost.  Vol.  I.  By  the 
Very  Kev.  Dr.  Otto  Zardetti.  V.G.  Milwaukee :  Hoff- 
mann Brothers. 

This  beautifully-bound  volume  has  been  called  forth'  by  the 
solemn  and  authoritative  words  of  the  American  bishops  at  the 
last  Plenary  Council  of  Baltimore,  and  aims  specially  at  providing 
the  colleges  and  schools  of  America  with  a  manual  which  will 
assist  in  explaining,  cultivating,  and  popularizing  the  devotion  to 
the  Holy  Ghost.  The  appearance  of  this  work  is  most  opportune, 
for  what  appear  to  be  the  great  evils  of  the  present  time — reli- 
gious indifference  and  reviving  naturalism — can  be  best  neutralized 
by  the  consciousness  of  the  presence  and  in-dwelling  in  us  and  in 
the  Church  of  God's  Holy  Ghost ;  while,  at  the  same  time,  it  can 
scarcely  be  denied  that  this  eminently  practical  and  Christian 
devotion  is  hardly  known,, or  rarely  practised,  among  the  faithful. 
The  treatises  of  Cardinal  Manning,  who  may  be  called  the  apostle 
of  this  devotion,  are  beyond  the  reach  of  many,  and  until  now  no 
effort  has  been  made  to  meet  the  demand  for  a  manual  of  this 
devotion,  which  should  be  at  once  comprehensive,  practical,  and 


Notices  of  Books.  671 

devotional.  There  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  this  volume,  the 
first  of  a  promised  series  by  the  same  author,  will  meet  the  wants 
and  requirements  of  intelligent  worshippers  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
The  nature  of  this  devotion,  its  peculiar  fitness  for  the  time  in 
which  we  live,  and  the  formal  observances  requisite  for  its  con- 
gregational practice  are  set  forth  with  directness  and  hicidity. 
The  author  enlarges  on  the  many  offices  which  are  ascribed  by  the 
Church  to  the  Third  Person  of  the  Blessed  Trinity,  and  concludes 
this  volume  with  an  appropriate  collection  of  prayers  and 
hymns  calculated  to  inspire  and  strengthen  devotion  to  the 
Sanctifier. 

The  Poet's  Puegatory,  and  other  Poems.     By  H.  D. 

Eyder,  of  the   Oratory.      Dublin:   M.  H.  Gill  &  Son, 

1890. 
Poems  of  the  Past.  By  Moi-Meme,  Same  Publishers,  1890. 
Poems  and  Ballads  of  Young  Ireland.     Same  Publishers. 

In  The  Poet's  Purgatory  the  poem  from  which  Father  Eyder's 
collection  takes  its  name,  the 

"  Votaries  of  nature  who  had  found  their  joy 
In  echoing  the  praise  of  field  and  flood, 
Winning  a  rapture  from  each  floweret  coy 
On  river  bank  or  in  the  fragrant  wood 
From  all  but  Him  who  made  the  source  of  all  their  good," 

are  represented  by  the  author  in  the  life  that  follows  the  present,  as 

♦'  A  pallid  band  of  ghosts.  ... 

On  every  face  the  dreadful  stamp  of  pain 
From  ceaseless  searching  after  banished  rest." 

Such  a  fate  for  such  a  cause  shall  certainly  never  overtake  either  the 
2t,Vi.th.oi:  oiihe  Poet's  Purgatory, ovMoi-Meme,  For,  though  each  muse 
exults  in  the  poetry  of  Nature,  and  knows  "  to  win  a  rapture  from 
each  floweret  coy,"  yet  neither  has  forgotten  "  Him  who  made  the 
source  of  all  their  good."  Through  both  collections  breathe  a 
deep  religious  feeling,  which  surely  for  the  Christian  reader  must 
lend  an  additional  charm  to  even  the  most  sublime  creation  of  the 
poet's  fancy.  This  is  particularly  true  of  Poems  of  the  Past,  of  which 
there  is  a  large  and  varied  collection.  Here  are  a  few  extracts, 
taken  at  random,  which  give  a  fair  idea  of  the  style  and  the 


€75  Notices,  of  Books. 

spirit   of  this  collection.      From  "My  Madonna"  we  take  the 
following: —  7::. ^r^eriija  c^ii  v. .  .  ^ 

'*  Beautiful  face  !  as  I  gaze  on  thee  now, 

With  the  rich  glow  of  sunset  retouching  thy  brow, 
And  thy  mild  eyes  so  tenderly  resting  on  me, 
'My  Mother  '  I  lovingly  utter  to  thee. 

Beautiful  face  !  how  content  shall  I  be 
If  death  find  my  dying  glance  resting  on  thee. 
As  the  deep  golden  hues  of  the  sunset  decay 
!-  -li        And  my  fast-waning  spirit  is  ebbing  away."       . '  . 

This  is  from  "  My  Crucifix  "  : — 

*'  When  life  seems  rough  and  thorny  and  no  sunbeam  gilds  the  way, 
•^^  -It  sheds  upon  its  rugged  track  a  cheering,  bright'ning  ray  ; 
.     It  knows  my  heart!s  best  secrets,,  my  every  jvish  and  sigh  ;. 
I  whisper  to  it  all  my  cares  and  griefs  when  none  are  nigh. 

:    Oft  when  I  press  it  to  my  lips,  and  on  its  Image  gaze^ 
*    And  see  the  proof  of  tenderness  each  loving  wound  displays, 
.     Stilled  is  my  restless  heart,  e'en  when  most  tempted  to  rebel. 
Sweet  lessons  of  my  Crucifix  !  oh,  may  I  learn  thee  well !" 

Who  Moi-Meme  is  we  are  not  told.  That  she  is  a  lady  any 
dozen  lines  in  this  collection  of  her  poems  proves  conclusively-; 
not  because  the  poems  betray  the  want  of  strength  generally 
associated  with  the  female  character,  but  because  they  reveal  the 
devotion,  the  self-denial,  and,  above  all,  the  tenderness  and  sweet- 
ness which  find  a  suitable  home  only  in  the  heart  of  a  Christian 
lady.  That  her  heart  beats  under  the  humble  habit  of  a  BeUgieiise, 
the  intense  but  at  the  same  time  trained  and  solid  piety  pervading 
evfery  line  of  her  poems  clearly '  shows ;  while  her  touching 
centenary  tribute  to  Nano  Nagle  leaves  no  room  for  doubt  .as  to 
the  particular  Sisterhood  to  which  she  belongs.  We  sincerely 
wish  her  Pobms.  Df  Jhe  Past  &  wide  circulation.  Were  we  in  a 
position  to  do  so  we  would  bestow  a  copy  on  every  boy  and  girl 
in  Ireland,  with  full  confidence  that  the  intelligent  perusal  of  its 
contents  would  tend  powerfully  to  elevate  and  strengthen  their 
character,  while  communicating  to  their  still  impressionable  hearts 
'  some  sparks  of  the  divine  fire  which  animates  the  breast  of  th^e 
humble  Moi-Meme,  ,  ' 

The  Poems  and  Ballads  are  not  of  the  Young  Ireland  of  '48, 
but  of  that  of  '88.  Two  of  the  contributors,  Ellen  O'Leary  and 
Eose  Kavanagh,  have,  since  the  publication  of  this  booklet, 
•resigned  their  places  in  the  earthly  choir  to  join  the  celestial. 
^Among  the  others  are  Katharine  Tynan,  T.  W.  EollestoTi,  Johti 
Todhunter,  and  W.  B.  Yeats.  ^     D.  O'Li. 


THE  IRISH 

ECCLESIASTICAL  EECOED. 


AUGUST,  1891. 


ST.  AIDAN,  OK  MAIDOC,  BISHOP  OF  FEKNS.i 

THE  sixth  and  seventh  centuries  were  glorious  ones  in  the 
annals  of  the  Irish  Church.  A  hundred  years  after  the 
blessed  Patrick  had  landed  on  the  soil  of  Erin,  the  faith  had 
spread  throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land.  The 
warlike  spirit  of  the  ancient  clans — still  hot  and  unsubdued 
— was  gradually  being  curbed  under  the  gentle  yoke  of  the 
Gospel,  and  it  was  no  uncommon  thing  for  the  prince  or  the 
monarch  to  exchange  the  court  for  the  cloister,  the  royal  robe 
for  the  mean  habit  of  the  monk.  The  wild  islands  off  the 
western  coast,  the  peaceful  valleys,  the  lovely  lake  sides  of 
the  north  and  south  became  centres  of  monastic  life,  and 
of  those  famous  cloister  schools  in  which  the  lamp  of  learning 
burnt  brightly  in  days  of  war  and  strife,  and  the  song  of 
praise  ascended  day  and  night  before  the  throne  of  God.  In 
the  sixth  century  St.  Finnian  founded  the  monastery  of 
Innisfallen,  on  an  island  in  the  lower  Lake  of  Killamey — a 
lovely  spot,  rendered  still  more  heavenly  by  the  saintly  lives 
of  the  monks.  The  Shannon  banks  were  sanctified  by  the 
famous  abbey  and  school  of  Clon-mac-nois,  established  by  St. 

^  The  Irish  expressed  devotion  to  a  saint  by  using  the  diminutive  of  his 
name,  or  prefixing  the  pronoim  mo,  my.  Aedh  was  the  bishop's  name  ;  the 
Latin  form  was  Aedanus;  the  Irish  diminutive  Aedh-og ;  with  the  pnfix 
mo,  Mo-sedh-ofj ^  or  Moedhog,  or  Mngiw.  The  saint's  name  is  now  written 
Maidoc,  or  Aidan.     Todd's  Life  of  St.  Patrick',  page  115,  note. 

VOL.  XII.  2  U 


674  St.  Aidan,  or  Maidoc,  Bishop  of  Ferns. 

Kiernan  in  the  year  548 ;  and  in  the  following  year  St.  Kevin 
selected  as  the  site  for  what  was  to  prove  the  great  university  of 
Glendalough,  the  weird  and  romantic  spot  now  known  as  the 
Seven  Churches.  Lismore,  too,  and  the  Blackwater  were 
enriched  with  their  famous  cloister  school  at  the  end 
of  the  sixth  century,  through  the  labours  of  St.  Faidhe 
Fland.  But  enough.  To  name  all  the  abodes  of  piety  and 
learning  that  adorned  Erin  in  those  days  were  an  endless 
task.  Ireland  was  covered  with  monasteries ;  and  so  great 
was  the  reputation  of  her  schools,  that  men  flocked  thither 
from  all  parts  of  Europe  to  imbibe  the  true  principles  of 
religion  and  learning.  Nor  was  this  all.  From  the  cloisters 
of  Ireland  went  forth  valiant  missionaries  into  foreign  lands 
to  carry  the  light  of  the  Gospel  to  foreign  shores.  St. 
Columba  founded  the  famous  monastery  of  lona,  from  which 
his  disciples  w^ent  forth  to  convert  the  Scots,  and  to  share  in 
the  evangelization  of  England.  St.  Columbanus  preached  in 
Gaul  and  Germany ;  he  established  in  the  Vosges  the  great 
monastery  of  Luxeuil  and  the  abbey  of  Bobbio,  near  Milan  ; 
whilst  to  the  zeal  and  activity  of  St.  Gall  we  owe  the  cele- 
brated abbey  of  that  name,  situated  on  the  Lake  of  Constance. 
In  a  word,  in  those  days  Irish  missionaries  were  to  be  found 
everywhere  in  the  front  ranks  of  the  army  of  the  Church, 
extending  her  empire  and  strengthening  it  by  the  establish- 
ment of  schools  of  learning  and  discipline. 

The  life  of  St.  Maidoc  belongs  partly  to  the  sixth  and 
partly  to  the  seventh  century.  He  was  born  of  royal  blood, 
for  his  father,  Setna,  prmce  of  Breffhy,^  of  the  Hy-Briiun  sept, 
was  descended  from  a  former  king  of  Ireland,  and  his  mother, 
Ethne,  was  of  the  house  of  Amalgaid,  who  was  king  of  Con- 
naught  when  St.  Patrick  landed  in  Ireland.^  Setna  and  his 
wife  Ethne  were  a  holy  and  God-fearing  couple,  who  dwelt 
in  a  place  called  Inisbreagmuig,  in  the  present  county  of 
Cavan.  Though  married  many  years,  they  had  not  been 
blessed  with  children;  and  they  prayed  to  God,  and  gave  large 
alms,  with  the  hope  that  they  might  not  be  left  without  an 

1  Equivalent  to  the  counties  of  Cavan  and  Leitrim.  Ware,  History  of 
Ireland^  vol.  i.,  page  46. 

^Foiir  Masters,  449,  note  r/. 


St.  Aidan,  or  Maidoc,  Bishop  of  Ferns.  675 

heir.  More  than  that,  they  got  the  monks  of  the  monastery 
of  Drumlane  ^  to  offer  up  prayers  to  God  for  them  with  the 
same  intention.  Their  faith  was  not  left  mirewarded.  It  is 
related  that  some  little  time  before  the  birth  of  our  saint  a 
bright  star  was  seen  descending  from  heaven  upon  his  mother 
Ethne,  an  earnest  of  the  future  brilliancy  of  his  life  and 
example.  Maidoc  was  born  in  the  island  of  Inisbreagmuig, 
probably  about  the  year  540.'''' 

The  ancient  sons  of  Erin  loved  the  river  banks  and  tlie 
secluded  islands  in  the  lakes,  and  so  we  find  the  ancestral 
home  of  the  Hy-Briiuns  of  Breffny  on  an  island  in  the  county 
Cavan.  Here  the  young  Maidoc  spent  his  childhood  and  the 
early  days  of  his  boyhood.  To  his  pious  parents  he  was  a 
subject  of  tender  solicitude.     No  doubt  they  regarded  him  as 


^  In  county  Cavan,  near  Belturbet. 

2  The  date  of  St.  Maidoc's  birth  is  not  without  difficulty.  Lanigan 
(Eccle.'i.  Iliftt.^  vol.  ii.,  page  333,  and  note  125)  places  it  in  560  or  there- 
abouts. Harris  and  Ussher  incline  to  an  earlier  date.  In  the  Bollandists, 
under  date  of  January  31st,  the  following  extract  from  the  notes  of 
Serrarius,  for  September  7th,  is'given  : — "  Item  hacdie  S.  Modoci  Episcopi 
in  Scotia,  qui  vixit  circa  annum  53-4."  It  seems  necessary  to  place  the  date 
of  our  saint  somewhere  about  the  year  540,  from  the  facts  recorded  in  the 
sixth  chapter  of  his  life.  Here  it  is  stated  that  he  and  St.  Laisrean  were 
companions  (.soc«),  and  at  the  time  in  question  decided  to  pait  company. 
From  the  context  this  appears  to  have  been  before  St.  Laisrean  founded  his 
monastery  at  Devenish,  which  he  did  aboufthe  year  560.  Indeed,  his  death 
is  put  down  in  the  Four  Masters  as  having  occurred  in  563.  Certainly  it 
was  not  later  than  570.  It  is  clear,  theiefore,  that  the  parting  of  the  two 
friends  cannot  have  been  long  after  the  year  560,  and  hence  560  was  not 
the  year  of  our  saint's  birth.  On  the  other  hand,  a  difficulty  arises  from 
the  event  recorded  in  the  second  cliapter — that  Maidoc,  whilst  yet  a  little 
boy  (pan-ubis),  was  a  hostage  in  the  hands  of  Ainmire,  king  of  Ii eland  (lex 
Temoriii),  who  reigned  from  561- to  566  (Four  Masters).  From  this  it 
seems  to  follow  that  Maidoc  was  not  born  long  before  560.  But  then,  we 
may  ask,  was  Ainmire  really  king  of  Ireland  when  Maidoc  was  a  hostage 
in  his  hands?  We  might  suggest : — (1)  That  the  writer  of  St.  Maidoc's 
life,  writing  after  Ainmire  had  been  king  of  Ireland,  might  have  refeiredto 
him  as  rex  Temorice,  though  at  the  time  of  the  incident  recorded  he  had  not 
yet  attained  to  that  dignity.  {'J)  In  one  manuscript  copy  of  the  life  of 
St  Maidoc  (cf.  Lives  ofCambro-Britisli  Saints,  page  283\-\inmirein  tliio  con- 
text is  called  only  rex  Magnus.  (3)  Before  Ainmire  becomes  king  of  Ire- 
land he  is  referrred  to  in  the  Four  Masters  at  the  year557  as  king,andas  being- 
one  of  many  chieftains  that  exact  hostages  from  a  conquered  foe.  (4) 
Neighbouring  sejDts  were  continually  at  war  with  one  another,  and  there  is 
nothing  unlikely  in  the  fact  that  the  prince  of  the  Ily-Nials  should  have 
exacted  hostages  from  the  princes  of  Breffny,  without  the  intervention  of 
the  king  of  Ireland. 


676  St.  Aidan,  or  Maidoc,  Bishop  of  Ferns. 

a  special  trust  from  God,  the  fruit  of  much  prayer  and  alms- 
giving, and  so  they  carefully  watched  over  him  from  his 
infancy,  and  taught  him  to  walk  in  the  way  of  holiness  and 
virtue.  Nor  was  the  child  slow  to  respond  to  the  instructions 
he  received.  The  grace  of  God  was  manifest  in  him  from  the 
first.  He  kept  his  soul  unspotted  from  the  defilements  of 
sin,  and,  even  at  this  early  age,  God  manifested  His 
special  love  for  the  child  by  according  to  him  the  gift  of 
miracles.^ 

The  territory  of  the  Hy-Nials  lay  at  no  great  distance 
from  that  of  the  Hy-Briiuns.  Now,  in  those  days  wars  were 
of  very  frequent  occurrence,  not  only  between  the  supreme 
king  and  his  foreign  foes,  but  between  province  and  province, 
between  sept  and  sept.^  One  of  these  numerous  struggles 
took  place  between  the  princes  of  Breffny  and  the  Hy-Nial 
sept  whilst  Ainmire  was  king  of  the  Hy-Nials,  and  it  ended 
in  Ainmire  demanding  hostages  from  the  family  of  the  Hy- 
Briiuns.  The  sons  of  the  noblest  in  the  land  had  to  be 
delivered  over  to  the  conqueror,^  and  amongst  the  number 
was  Maidoc,  still  a  little  boy.  When  the  youths  were 
ushered  into  the  presence  of  the  king,  he  was  at  once  struck 
with  the  appearance  of  the  youthful  Maidoc.  A  heavenly 
beauty  and  the  grace  of  God  shone  in  the  boy's  face,  and, 
unsohcited,  the  king  offered  to  receive  him  into  his  court,  or,  if 
he  preferred  it,  to  send  him  back  to  his  home.  The  boy,  how- 
ever, with  a  courage  beyond  his  years,  declined  any  special 
favour  for  himself,  and  begged  the  king  to  extend  his  favour 
to  all  his  fellow-prisoners.  His  unselfishness  did  not  go 
unrewarded.  The  noble  bearing,  and  perhaps  also  the  reputa- 
tion for  holiness  which  the  saint  had  gained  even  at  that 
early  age,  moved  tlie  generosity  of  Ainmire.  He  dismissed 
all  the  boys,  without  ransom,  to  their  homes,  requesting  only 
a  remembrance  in  the  prayers  of  the  youthful  Maidoc. 

The  days  of  our  saint's  childhood  and  boyhood  quickly 
passed  away.     He  grew  daily  in  virtue  and  in  the  esteem  of 

'  Life^  chapter  iii. 

'^  Cf.  Moore's /reZa?K/,  vol.  i.,  page  170. 

3  In  the  Life  of  St.  Aldus  (Camh.-BrU.  Saints)  the  number  is  put  at 
fifty-three  boys. 


St.  Aiden,  or  Maidoc,  Bishop  of  Ferns.  677 

his  neighbours,  passing  his  time  in  tending  the  flocks,  in 
simple  pastimes  and  in  prayer  to  God.  The  great  promise 
he  gave  of  a  brilliant  futm^e  did  not  escape  the  watchful  eye 
of  his  parents.  They  determined  that  he  should  have  the 
advantage  of  a  good  education ;  and  accordingly  it  was  decided 
that  he  should  be  entrusted  to  the  care  of  some  holy  men  to 
be  instructed  in  the  knowledge  proper  to  his  station. 

Ten  or  fifteen  years  previous  to  the  birth  of  St.  Maidoc, 
the  great  monastic  school  of  Clonard^  had  been  founded  by 
St.  Finnian.^  Baptized  and  instructed  by  one  of  the 
immediate  disciples  of  St.  Patrick,  St.  Finnian  studied  both 
in  Ireland  and  in  Britain,  and  was  intimate  with  St.  David, 
St.  Gildas  and  St.  Cadoc.  After  having  founded  many 
establishments  in  Ireland,  about  the  year  530  he  erected  in 
a  desert  place  the  monastery  of  Clonard,  and  he  was  soon 
(so  great  was  the  reputation  of  his  learning  and  of  his  school) 
surrounded  by  disciples  and  scholars  to  the  number  of 
three  thousand,  including  some  of  the  greatest  of  the  Irish 
saints,  as  Columba,  Kieran,  and  Brendan.  To  this  abode  of 
learning  and  sanctity  the  young  Maidoc  was  sent  by  his 
parents.^  Perhaps  when  our  young  saint  first  went  there, 
Clonard  was  still  presided  over  by  its  venerable  founder, 
who  in  all  probability  did  not  die  till  the  year  552.  If  not, 
St.  Senachus,  one  of  the  greatest  of  his  disciples,  was  bishop 
and  abbot  of  Clonard.  No  doubt,  too,  the  presence  of 
St.  Laisrean  at  the  new  school  of  St.  Finnian  was  an 
additional  inducement  for  the  pious  Setna  to  send  his  son 
there  ;  for  Laisrean,  too,  was  a  native  of  Breffny,  and  would  be 


1  In  the  county  Meath. 

^  Cf.  Lanigan,  vol.  i.,  page  46J:,  &c. 

^  There  is  no  direct  evidence  that  St.  Maidoc  was  at  the  school  of 
Clonard,  but  indirectly  it  seems  to  be  a  necessary  consequence  of  Avhat  is 
related  in  the  life  of  our  saint  (chap.  vi].  Here  it  is  stated  that  St.  Laisrean 
and  St.  Maidoc  were  companions,  evidently  meaning  that  they  had  long 
lived  together,  and  were  then  going  to  part  company.  This  event 
we  have  already  shown  took  place  about  the  year  500,  and  very  shortly 
after  St.  Laisrean  left  Clonard  (Lanigan,  vol.  ii.,page  218).  Moreover,  at 
that  date  Maidoc  can  only  have  just  left  school.  Where,  then,  can  the  two 
saints  have  become  intimate,  if  not  at  Clonard  ?  Moreover,  that  our  saint 
was  at  Clonard  is  in  itself  a  very  likely  thing,  since  it  was  one  of  the 
most  noted  schools  of  the  day. 


678  St,  Aidan,  or  Maidoc,  Bislioj)  of  Ferns. 

sure  to  take  a  kindly  interest  in  his  young  kinsman 
Maidoc. 

The  Hfe  of  our  saint  at  Clonard  was  very  unUke 
school  life  in  these  days.^  It  was  a  real  preparation  for  a 
life  of  hardship  and  privation.  Students  were  there  assembled 
in  great  numbers  from  all  parts,  from  every  class  of  society. 
Prince  and  peasant  were  treated  alike.  No  allowance  was 
made  for  nobility  of  birth.  Accustomed  as  he  was  to  the  atten- 
tions accorded  to  children  of  high  rank,  when  he  entered  the 
school  of  Clonard,  Maidoc  had  to  join  the  rest  in  working 
for  his  maintenance  and  that  of  the  establishment ;  and,  no 
doubt,  as  was  the  case  with  the  great  St.  Columba,  he  had 
much  to  endure  on  the  score  of  his  noble  blood.  But  the 
great  work  of  the  day  was  the  acquisition  of  knowledge. 
The  Latin  tongue  had  to  be  mastered,  the  ancient  classics 
to  be  read;  the  science  of  theology,  such  as  it  existed  in 
those  days,  had  to  be  studied ;  above  all,  the  Sacred  Scriptures 
had  to  be  pondered  on  and  expounded.  Nor  were  the  art  of 
versification  and  the  rudiments  of  music  neglected.  Music 
was  much  cultivated  and  loved  by  the  Irish  of  those  days, 
and  no  school  existed  in  which  some  knowledge  of  it  was 
not  imparted  to  the  students. 

Maidoc  was  a  lover  of  nature,  and  in  his  leisure  hours 
he  used  to  wander  forth  into  some  retired  spot,  book  in 
hand,^  and  there  spend  the  time  in  reading  and  prayer.  He 
was  naturally  gentle  and  loving  in  his  disposition.  Suffering 
of  any  kind,  even  in  dumb  animals,  appealed  to  him.  Thus 
it  is  recorded  of  him,  how  once,  as  he  was  reading  in  the 
woods  near  Clonard,  a  stag,  wearied  with  the  chase,  came 
up  to  him,  pursued  by  a  pack  of  dogs  and  a  troop  of  hunts- 
men. The  helpless  condition  of  the  animal  moved  his 
commiseration,  and  he  helped  it  to  escape  from  its  hungry 
pursuers. 

How  long  Maidoc  remained  at  Clonard  we  are  unable  to 
to  say.  Assuredly,  it  is  not  unHkely  that  he  left  that  abode 
of  learning  together  with  St.  Laisrean  somewhere  about  the 


^  Cf .  Christian  Schools  and  Scholars,  vol.  i.,  page  66. 
*  Life,  chapter  v. 


St.  Aldan,  or  Maidoc,  Bishop  of  Ferns.  679 

year  560.  At  all  events,  about  that  time  we  find  the  two 
friends  together,  having  apparently  been  comrades  for  many 
years.  St.  Laisrean  was,  we  know,  established  as  abbot  in 
his  new  monastery  of  Devenish  in  the  year  563  ;  and  it  was 
shortly  after  leaving  the  school  of  Clonard  that  he  entered 
on  the  labour  of  founding  that  abbey. ^  On  the  other  hand, 
considering  the  age  of  St.  Maidoc,  it  is  unlikely  that  he  left 
school  long  before  the  year  560.  Laisrean  was  considerably 
older  than  his  friend,  and,  no  doubt,  had  devoted  many  years 
to  lecturing  and  teaching  at  the  school  of  Clonard.  In  that 
establishment  a  solid  friendship  grew  up  and  matured 
between  the  two  holy  men,  and  now  that  they  had  left  that 
abode  of  learning  the  question  arose,  whether  they  were  to 
labour  together  in  the  service  of  God  or  not.  On  a  certain 
day  as  they  were  praying  together  for  light  to  settle  that 
important  question,  God  seems  to  have  revealed  to  them  His 
will  in  the  matter  in  a  very  unmistakable  way.  They  were 
to  separate.  Laisrean  was  to  labour  in  the  north,  Maidoc 
in  the  south,  but  not  yet  for  many  years.  The  biographer' 
of  our  saint  relates  that  as  the  two  saints  were  praying 
together  for  light,  two  trees  near  them  suddenly  fell,  one 
towards  the  north,  and  the  other  towards  the  south  ;  that 
towards  the  north  being  near  St.  Laisrean,  that  towards  the 
south  near  St.  Maidoc.  The  holy  men  considered  that  they 
were  to  regard  this  remarkable  occurrence  as  a  manifestation 
to  them  of  the  will  of  God. 

St.  Laisrean  lost  no  time  in  entering  upon  his  work. 
Having  obtained  a  grant  of  an  island  in  Loch  Erne,  called 
Damh-inis,  he  there  erected  a  monastery,  which  was 
famous  for  many  years  to  come.  But  Maidoc  was  still 
young ;  and  yet,  young  as  he  was,  his  reputation  for  sanctity 
had  spread  far  and  wide,  and  was  attended  by  miracles. 
Shortly  after  St.  Laisrean  had  settled  in  the  Island  of 
Damh-inis,  his  friend  Maidoc  was  staying  with  him  on  a 
visit.  It  happened — so  we  read  in  the  life  of  the  saint — that 
one  day  three  sons  of  a  certain  pious  woman  who  dwelt  near 


*  Lanigan,  vol.  ii.,  page  218. 
2  Probably  a  certain  St.  Evin. 


680  St.  Aidan,  or  Maidoc,  Bishop  of  Ferns. 

the  lake  were  drowned,  and  the  disconsolate  mother,  coming 
to  St.  Laisrean,  besought  him  to  restore  her  children  to  her. 
He  referred  her  to  St.  Maidoc,  who,  moved  by  the  good 
woman's  entreaties,  prayed  to  God  for  her,  and  restored  her 
sons  to  her,  safe  and  sound.  The  result  of  all  this  was 
natural.  Crowds  of  persons  kept  coming  to  our  saint, 
requesting  him  to  allow  them  to  become  his  disciples,  and 
to  direct  them  in  the  spiritual  life.  This  was  very  trying  to 
his  humility.  He  shrunk  from  the  eminence  to  which  he 
was  rising.  He  felt  that  the  time  for  his  public  work  had 
not  yet  arrived;  and  at  length,  seeing  that  he  had  no  chance 
of  finding  a  place  of  seclusion  in  Ireland,  he  determined  to 
leave  his  country  and  embrace  the  monastic  life  in  another 
land. 

In  our  own  days  a  passage  from  Ireland  to  England  is  a 
very  easy  matter.  It  was  not  so  in  the  sixth  century.  The 
sons  of  Erin  in  those  days  braved  the  dangers  of  the  deep  in 
fragile  barks  formed  of  ribs  of  osier  covered  with  hides, 
called  currachs.^  It  was  in  such  a  vessel  that  St.  Cormac, 
as  we  read  in  St.  Adamnan's  life  of  St.  Columba,  sailed  from 
lona,  to  seek  out  some  solitary  island  in  the  ocean,  and  was 
for  fourteen  days  out  of  sight  of  land.  But  Maidoc's  zeal  in 
God's  service  overcame  his  dread  of  the  perils  of  the  deep. 
He  had,  however,  a  difficulty  to  overcome  before  he  could 
set  out  upon  his  journey.  Albus,  Prince  of  the  Hy-Briiun 
sept,  hearing  of  his  intention  of  leaving  the  country,  was 
unwilling  to  part  with  so  great  a  treasure  from  his  kingdom. 
He  threw  obstacles  in  the  way  of  our  saint's  departure,  and 
it  was  only  by  flying  stealthily  away,  and  crossing  over  into 
the  province  of  Leinster,  that  Maidoc  was  able  to  carry  his 
intention  into  execution.  Travelling  down  to  the  south  of 
Ireland,  he  set  sail  from  some  part  of  the  coast  of  the  county 
Wexford,  and  landed  safely  in  Milford  Haven. 

In  those  days  St.  David  was  the  great  light  of  the  Welsh 
Church.  A  disciple  of  St.  Paulinus,  he  had  spent  many 
years  in  the  Isie  of  Wight,  and  had  returned  thence  into 


^  Ware,  Historij  of  Ireland.     Of  the  boats  covered  with  hides  in  use 
among  the  early  Irish.     Vol.  i.,  chap,  xxiv.,  page  178. 


St.  Aidan,  or  Maidoc,  Bishop  of  Ferns,  681 

Wales  full  of  fervour  and  apostolic  zeal.  He  founded  abbeys 
in  many  parts  of  the  country,  and  became  the  spiritual 
father  of  an  innumerable  family  of  monks  whom  he  led 
to  perfection  by  his  doctrine  and  example.  His  great 
monastery  was  in  the  Vale  of  Koss,  near  Menevia.  Situated 
on  the  most  westerly  promontory  of  Pembrokeshire,  the 
monastery  was  built  in  a  secluded  spot,  about  half  a  mile 
from  the  sea,  and  surrounded  on  three  sides  by  steep  and 
rugged  hills.  To  this  school  of  monastic  discipline  many 
eminent  servants  of  God  came  to  be  instructed  by  St.  David 
in  the  science  of  the  saints.  It  was  to  the  monastery  of 
Menevia  and  to  St.  David ^  that  Maidoc  was  now  journeying. 
When  he  arrived  at  the  monastery  gates,  he  did  not  find 
any  gorgeous  buildings  like  the  Glastonbury,  or  Westminster, 
or  Tewkesbury  of  the  middle  ages.  At  Menevia  everything 
was  of  the  most  primitive  simplicity.  The  monks  lived  in 
little  separate  cells  or  huts.  The  common  refectory  and 
the  church  were  built  of  wattles  and  wood  cemented  with 
mud,  and  roofed  with  straw  or  sedge.  The  whole  was 
probably  enclosed  within  a  rampart  or  mound,  and  presented 
the  appearance  of  a  poor  village. 

When  our  young  saint  presented  himself  at  the 
monastery  gates,  after  his  tedious  and  dangerous  journey, 
his  reception  was  anything  but  encouraging.  Indeed,  were 
he  not  fortified  by  the  grace  of  God,  and  a  firm  determination 
to  persevere  in  the  good  work  he  had  taken  in  hand,  he 
would  most  certainly  have  returned  again  to  Ireland.  Por 
the  community  did  not  easily  admit  recruits  into  their 
ranks. 

"  Whosoever  desired  to  join  himself  to  their  holy  society,  was 
obliged  to  remain  ten  days  at  the  door  of  the  monastery, 
acknowledging  himself  a  wretched  sinner,  and  unworthy  to  be 
admitted  among  them  :  where  he  was  severely  tried  by  rude  words 
and  rough  usage,  which  if  he  patiently  endured  all  that  time,  he 
was  then  taken  in  by  the  senior  religious,  who  had  the  care  of 

'  Though  Ussher,  Harris,  and  Ware  (bishops,  Ferns)  hold  that  St.  David 
died  in  544,  it  seems  to  us,  with  Lanigan  (vol.  i.,  477),  and  others,  that  that 
date  is  out  of  the  question,  and  that  St.  David  lived  till  the  end  of  the 
sixth  century. 


682  St.  Aidan,  or  Maidoc,  Bishop  of  Ferns. 

the  gate,  and  was  by  him  instructed,  and  exercised  for  a  long 
time  in  painful  labours  and  grievous  mortifications  ;  and  so  at 
length,  was  admitted  to  the  fellowship  of  the  rest  of  the  brethren, 
leaving  all  his  ^yorldly  substance  behind  him,  of  which  the 
community  would  take  no  part.'" 

Maidoc,  was,  however,  prepared  for  all  that.  He  passed 
successfully  through  his  term  of  probation,  and  was  admitted 
into  the  community.  Nor  was  his  life  then  an  easy 
one.  On  the  contrary,  the  severity  of  the  rule  was  such 
as  might  reasonably  have  made  the  most  fervent  waver. 
*' During  their  work  the  religious  employed  themselves  in  the 
contemplation  of  heavenly  things.  Having  finished  their 
work  abroad  in  the  fields  (according  to  the  time  alloted  to 
them),  they  returned  to  the  monastery,  and  spent  what  time 
remained,  till  the  evening,  either  in  reading,  or  writing,  or 
praying.  In  the  evening  they  all  went  to  the  church,  where 
they  continued  in  prayer  till  the  stars  appeared,  and  then 
took  their  meal  all  altogether,  eating  sparingly,  and  not  to 
satiety :  their  food  was  bread,  with  herbs  or  roots,  seasoned 
with  salt;  their  drink  was  a  mixture  of  milk  and  water. 
After  supper  they  remained  about  three  hours  employed  in 
watching,  prayer  and  adoration,  and  then  went  to  rest. 
They  rose  again  at  cock- crowing,  and  continued  at  their 
prayers  till  day," ^  Labour  was  enjoined  on  all;  tlicy  were 
clothed  in  the  skins  of  beasts  ;  they  never  spoke,  except 
when  necessity  required  it.  Such  was  the  rule  of  life 
followed  at  Menevia.  As  for  the  young  Maidoc,  he  entered 
upon  the  hard  duties  of  the  monastic  life  with  fervour  and 
zeal.  He  surpassed  the  brethren  in  humility  and  obedience, 
and  because  of  his  regularity  in  the  observance  of  the  rule 
he  was  especially  loved  by  the  holy  abbot,  St.  David. 

Our  saint  had  other  crosses  to  bear  besides  the  mere  hard- 
ships of  the  monastic  rule.  Even  an  Apostle  fell  away.  Judas 
betrayed  his  Master.  No  wonder,  then,  if  bad  men  are  found 
from  time  to  time  within  the  walls  of  monasteries.  Such  a 
man  was  the  bursar  or  oeconomus,  called  in  Irish  the Fertighis, 

^  Britannia  Sancta,  part  i.,  page  142.  Cf.  "  Vita  S.  Davidis  per 
Ricemarchum  "  [Camb.  Brit.  Saints,  page  128). 

2  Brit.  Sancta,  part  i.,  page  142  ;  "  Vita  S.  David,"  ut  supra. 


St.  Aidan.  or  Maidoc,  Bishop  of  Ferns.  683 

of  St.  David's  monastery.  The  oeconomus  was  an  official  of 
much  importance.  His  duty  was  to  look  after  the  domestic 
affairs  of  the  monastery,  to  see  that  it  was  supplied  with 
necessaries,  and  to  superintend  the  labour  of  the  monks  for 
the  service  of  the  community.^  The  oeconomus  at  Menevia 
hated  our  saint  without  a  cause,  and  took  advantage  of  every 
opportunity  to  annoy  him.  One  day,  as  Maidoc  was 
reading  in  his  cell,  he  came  to  him,  and  ordered  him  off  in 
injurious  language  to  help  the  brethren  to  fetch  wood  to  the 
monastery  ;  for  it  so  happened  that,  unknown  to  our  saint, 
the  brethren  had  gone  out  into  the  woods  in  the. morning  for 
that  purpose.  Maidoc  obeyed  with  alacrity,  and  in  his  hurry 
left  his  book  lying  outside  on  the  ground.  The  oeconomus 
now  gave  him  two  unbroken  oxen  to  yoke  under  a  waggon, 
without  proper  harness./  But  God  w^as  with  the  holy  man. 
The  oxen  worked  quietly,  and  he  reached  the  place  where  the 
brethren  were  working  without  mishap. 

The  holy  abbot  David  was  not  unaware  of  what  had  taken 
place.  Now,  in  those  days  books  were  very  much  more 
valuable  than  they  are  now ;  so,  as  it  had  begun  to  rain 
heavily,  he  went  out  to  pick  up  Maidoc's  book,  which  lay 
upon  the  ground.  He  found  it  perfectly  dry.  Still,  though 
the  holy  man  fully  recognised  the  miracle  that  had  taken 
place,  he  determined  not  to  lose  the  opportunity  for  administer- 
ing a  salutary  reproofto  his  disciple,  and  accordingly  hastened 
to  where  the  brethren  were  labouring  near  the  sea-side. 
Coming  up  to  Maidoc,  he  asked  him  sternly  why  he  had  left 
his  book  exposed  to  the  rain.  The  saint,  seeing  that  the 
abbot  was  angry  with  him,  prostrated  himself  at  his  feet 
without  replying;  and  there  upon  the  ground  St.  David  left 
him,  and  returned  to  the  monastery.  Nor  did  Maidoc  arise 
till  one  of  the  monks  sent  by  St.  David  summoned  him  to 
him.  Then,  in  presence  of  the  whole  community — for  he 
knew  where  the  blame  lay — the  holy  bishop  sharply  rebuked 
the  oeconomus. 

But  Satan  had  entered  into  the  heart  of  that  unhappy 
man.     He  was  consumed  with  envy,  and  determined  at  last 

1  Cf.  Dr.  Todd's  St.  Patrick,  pp.  16G-169. 


684  St.  Aidan,  or  Maidoc,  Bishop  of  Ferns. 

to  murder  our  saint.  For  this  purpose  he  hired  a  certain 
wicked  layman,  and  sent  him  with  Maidoc  to  cut  down  fire- 
w^ood.  As  the  two  were  so  engaged,  whilst  our  saint  was 
bending  down  to  move  a  log  of  wood,  the  wretched  man 
raised  his  axe  with  the  intention  of  bringing  it  down  on 
Maidoc's  head.  He  was,  however,  stricken  before  he  had 
time  to  carry  out  his  nefarious  design,  and  both  his  arms 
were  paralyzed.  Terrified  at  the  sudden  judgment  of  God,  he 
confessed  the  whole  plot,  and  begged  pardon  from  the  man  of 
God.  Maidoc,  rejoiced  at  the  man's  repentance  rather  than 
at  his  own  escape,  prayed  to  God  for  him,  and  he  recovered 
the  use  of  his  arms.  St.  David,  when  he  heard  what  had 
taken  place,  was  proceeding  to  inflict  chastisement  on  the 
wretched  oeconomus ;  but,  at  the  request  of  Maidoc,  he  left 
him  unpunished.  And,  indeed,  God  Himself  punished 
the  unhappy  man,  for  he  died  miserably  a  short  time 
afterwards. 

Day  by  day  the  reputation  of  Maidoc  for  sanctity  spread 
through  the  land  of  the  Britons,  and  his  prayers  were  sought 
for  even  in  the  courts  of  princes.  At  this  time  there  were 
continual  hostilities  between  the  Britons  and  Saxons.  It 
was  during  one  of  these  many  wars,  when  the  Saxons  had 
made  an  incursion  into  Wales,  that  the  British  leaders  sent 
to  St.  David  asking  him  to  let  Maidoc  come  to  them,  to  bless 
themselves  and  their  arms.  St.  David  consented,  and  our 
saint  went  to  a  place  whence  he  had  a  view  of  the  two  armies. 
It  happened  that  the  Saxons  had  entered  the  country  un- 
expectedly, and  the  British  were  but  ill-prepared  for  the 
combat.  But  so  efficacious  were  the  prayers  of  our  saint,  that 
the  British  achieved  a  glorious  victory.  Nay,  more.  As  long 
as  Maidoc  remained  at  Menevia  the  Saxons  made  no  further 
inroads  into  Wales.  They  feared  the  power  of  his  prayers 
with  God. 

Maidoc  passed  many  years  in  St.  David's  monastery.  He 
had  not,  however,  forgotten  that  the  scene  of  his  public  life 
was  to  be  the  south  of  Ireland ;  and  so,  now  that  he  was  fully 
trained  in  the  monastic  life,  with  the  blessing  of  St.  David, 
and  accompanied  by  a  body  of  disciples  from  Menevia,  he  set 
sail  from   Milford  Haven,   and   landed  in   the  te:Titory   of 


St.  Aidan,  or  Maidoc,  Bishop  of  Ferns.  685 

Hy-Kinsellagh.^  He  found  the  country  near  the  coast  in  a  wild 
and  lawless  state — in  fact,  a  body  of  plunderers,  led  by  a  man 
of  position  in  the  neighbourhood,  met  them  as  they  neared 
the  shore,  intending,  as  was  their  custom  with  strangers 
landing  on  the  coast,  to  rob,  and  perhaps  murder  them.  But 
the  sight  of  the  man  of  God  and  his  disciples  seems  to  have 
appealed  to  their  better  nature.  Instead  of  attacking  the 
monks,  they  assisted  them  to  disembark.  They  afterwards 
saw  more  of  the  holy  Maidoc  ;  they  were  converted  from  their 
lawless  mode  of  hfe,  and  they  gave  our  saint  two  plots  of 
ground,  upon  which  he  erected  churches  for  the  convenience 
of  the  neighbourhood. 

Before  Maidoc  had  been  long  in  Ireland  he  seems  to  have 
repented  that  he  did  not  ask  St.  David  to  appoint  some  one 
under  whose  jurisdiction  he  and  his  disciples  should  be.^  In 
his  humility  he  did  not  realize  that  he  himself  was  to  be  the 
father  of  many  monasteries,  and  the  director  of  a  multitude 
of  saints.  However,  he  received  light  upon  the  subject  from 
God,  and  gave  up  the  idea  he  entertained  of  returning  to 
Wales  to  consult  St.  David  on  the  matter.  He  deter- 
mined, however,  to  take  as  his  spiritual  director  St.  Molua, 
a  holy  and  learned  monk,  whom  he  may  have  known  at 
the  school  of  Clonard,  and  who  was  founder — so  it  is  said — of 
no  less  than  one  hundred  monasteries.^ 

The  life  upon  which  he  was  now  entering  was  to  be  one 
of  great  labour  and  activity.  Within  the  next  few  years,  in 
fact,  he  founded  a  very  large  number  of  monasteries,  though, 
unfortunately,  of  most  of  them  we  have  no  record.  Not  long 
after  his  return  from  Britain  he  crossed  the  river  Barrow, 
and  entered  the  territory  of  the  Desii,  which  is  practically 
co-extensive    with   the    county   of   Waterford.*      Here    he 


1  Ware,  History,  Sfc,  of  Ireland,  vol.  i.,  page  60,  including  most  of  the 
county  Wexford. 

2  The  words  in  the  Life,  that  he  wanted  St.  David  to  chose  a  confessor 
for  him  do  not  seem  correct.  (Cf.  Bollandists,  Jan.  31,  note  to  chap,  xix.) 
The  words  given  in  the  life  printed  in  the  Camh.- British  SoinU  seem  more 
likely  (page  238).  Here  it  is  said  he  wanted  David  to  choose  for  him 
"amicum  animoe." 

•^  Lanigan,  ii.,  206. 

^  Waro,  vol.  i.,  page49. 


686  St.  Aidan,  or  Maidoc,  Bishop  of  Ferns, 

founded  the  cell  or  monastery  of  Disert-Nairbe,  which  is, 
according  to  Archdall/  the  modern  Bolhendesart,  in  the 
parish  of  Desert.  He  remained  for  some  time  at  his  new 
fomidation,  and  then  returned  to  Hy-Kinsellagh,  the  true 
field  of  his  labours.  One  of  the  most  celebrated  of 
his  establishments  in  this  part  of  the  country  was  the 
abbey  of  Clonemore,  situated  in  the  barony  of  Bantry, 
near  the  Slaney,  and  about  two  miles  from  Enniscorthy.- 
Over  this  monastery  he  placed  one  of  his  disciples,  Dicolla 
Garbhir,  and  it  maintained  its  reputation  for  many  cen- 
turies. 

At  this  period  Bran  Dubh,  a  man  of  great  energy  and 
ability,  was  ruler  of  Hy-Kinsellagh.  His  reputation  had 
already  spread  throughout  Ireland,  and  for  some  reason  or 
other  he  had  incurred  the  odium  of  the  chief  kings  of  the 
country.  The  result  was  that  about  this  time,  Aidus,  supreme 
king  of  Erin,  and  son  of  Ainmire,  who  had  had  Maidoc  as  a 
hostage  in  his  hands,  was  now  approaching  with  a  large  force 
to  ravage  the  territory  of  Bran  Dubh.  Maidoc  was  dwelling 
at  the  time  at  the  abbey  of  Clonemore,  and  such  was  his 
reputation  for  sanctity  and  force  of  character,  that  people 
congregated  to  him  from  all  sides  for  protection.  Their 
confidence  was  not  misplaced.  Aidus  marched  towards 
the  monastery;  but  misfortune  befell  him  from  the  very 
beginning.  It  is  said  that  Maidoc  made  a  mark  with 
his  staff  upon  the  ground,  and  that  a  soldier,  having 
scoffingly  passed  over  it,  fell  dead  on  tha  >spot.  At  all 
events,  king  Aidus  recognised  that  heaven  was  against  him, 
and  retreated,  exclaiming  that  it  was  useless  to  strive  against 
God.  Before  long,  however,  his  hostility  to  the  chief  of  the 
Hy-Kinsellagh  prevailed  over  his  fear  of  God.  Assembling 
again  a  powerful  force  from  Leinster,  Munster,  Connaught, 
and  Tyrconnel,  he  marched  southwards,  with  the  intention 
of  driving  Bran  Dubh  from  his  territory.  But  the  strategi- 
cal resources  of  the  southern  king  and  the  powerful  prayers 
of  Maidoc  were  too  much  for  Aidus.     He  was  completely 


i  Monastlcon  Hihernicum,  page  685. 

2  Archdall,  Monasticon  Hiberniciim,  page  734. 


St.  Aldan,  or  Maidoc,  Bishop  of  Ferns.  687 

defeated,  and  slain  with  a  large  number  of  the  noblest  of  his 
followers.     This  was  in  the  year  594.^ 

Bran  Dubh  now  became  king,  not  only  of  Leinster,  but 
of  the  greater  part  of  Ireland.  He  does  not  appear  to  have 
devoted  much  attention  to  religious  matters,  and,  in  fact,  the 
greater  part  of  his  time  was  taken  up  with  wars  and  quarrels 
with  other  kingdoms.  Not  long,  however,  after  he  had 
become  king  of  Leinster  he  fell  ill,  and  in  the  delirium  of 
his  sickness,  as  he  lay  in  his  camp  by  the  river  Slaney,  he 
seemed  to  see  great  monsters  trying  to  devour  him.  Then 
a  priest  of  beautiful  and  joyful  countenance  seemed  to  him 
to  come  and  rescue  him  from  destruction.  After  a  time  the 
king  grew  better,  and  he  was  moved  to  a  place  by  the  sea- 
side called  Inbher-Crainchium,  still  very  weak  and  sickly. 
Then  one  of  his  friends  advised  him  to  send  to  the  holy  man, 
Maidoc,  for  some  holy  water.  The  idea  of  having  recourse  to 
the  man  of  God  pleased  the  king  ;  but  he  determined,  weak 
as  he  was,  to  go  himself  to  St.  Maidoc.  When  he  came  into 
the  presence  of  our  saint  he  was  struck  with  astonishment 
at  seeing  that  he  was  the  very  same  in  appearance  as  the 
holy  priest  who  in  his  illness  had  rescued  him  from  the 
horrid  monster.  Bran  Dubh  had  had  time  for  reflection 
during  his  long  illness ;  his  interview  with  Maidoc  completed 
the  work  of  conversion  within  him.  He  now  confessed  to 
the  saint  the  wicked  life  he  had  been  leading.  He  expressed 
his  willingness  to  make  reparation  for  the  wrongs  he  had 
committed.  The  saint  on  his  side  prayed  to  God  for  him, 
and  healed  him  from  his  infirmity. 

During  the  remainder  of  his  life  Bran  Dubh  was  a 
sincere  and  devoted  friend  of  our  saint.  He  bestowed  large 
donations  upon  him  for  ecclesiastical  purposes,  and  in  the 
year  598  ^  made  over  to  him  some  land  at  the  modern  town 
of  Ferns,  on  the  Bann,  five  miles  from  Enniscorthy,  to 
build  a  monastery  upon.  Nor  was  he  content  with  doing  so 
much.     He   had  a   synod  convoked  of  the   bishops   of  the 


^  A  full  account  of  the  defeat  and  death  of  king  Aidus  is  given  in  the 
Ammls  of  the  Four  Masters  (Donovan),  vol.  i.,  page  218,  note  h. 
2  Cf.  Ware,  Bishops,  page  436 ;  Archdall,  page  742. 


688  St.  Aldan,  or  Maidoc,  Bishop  of  Ferns. 

province  of  Leinster,  to  which  there  came  not  only  the 
prelates  of  the  Church,  but  also  the  princes  of  the 
kingdom.  There  it  was  decided  by  king,  bishops,  and 
people,  that  Ferns  should  be  erected  into  a  new  episcopal 
see,  and  that  it  should  be  in  the  future  the  archiepiscopal 
see  of  the  province  of  Leinster.  Maidoc  was  then  unani- 
mously chosen,  and  consecrated  first  archbishop  of  the  new 
diocese. 

It  was  about  this  time,  shortly  after  he  had  become 
bishop  of  Ferns,  that  Maidoc  went  to  visit  his  old  master, 
David,  at  Menevia ;  for  Maidoc  became  bishop  in  the  year 
598,  and  David  died  before  the  end  of  the  century.  Hence, 
as  the  visit  took  place  after  our  saint  had  received  the  epis- 
copal dignity,  it  must  have  been  about  this  time.  St.  David 
knew  that  his  end  was  at  hand,  and  as  he  was  anxious  to  see 
his  beloved  disciple  once  more  before  he  died,  he  sent  a 
request  to  him  to  come  and  visit  him  at  Menevia.  The 
request  reached  Maidoc  at  a  busy  time,  for  he  was  still  new 
to  the  important  office  he  had  received.  Still,  he  could  not 
refuse  the  request  of  his  old  abbot ;  and,  moreover,  it  was  a 
real  pleasure  to  him  to  return  once  more  to  his  old  monastic 
home.  He  had  not  forgotten  the  lessons  of  virtue  he  had 
learnt  in  the  Vale  of  Ross,  but  had  given  the  holy  rule  of 
St.  David,  or  else  one  very  similar  to  it,  to  be  observed  in  the 
many  monasteries  he  had  established.  No  doubt,  too,  there 
were  many  points  connected  with  the  government  of  his 
monasteries  and  the  episcopal  office,  upon  which  Maidoc  was 
glad  of  an  opportunity  to  consult  St.  David.  Certainly  we 
know  that  he  remained  a  long  time  at  Menevia,  and  that 
he  and  the  great  Welsh  saint  had  prolonged  conversations 
together  on  spiritual  affairs.  Nor  did  Maidoc  depart  till  the 
call  of  duty  imperatively  demanded  his  return.  Then  he 
bade  adieu  to  his  venerable  friend,  and  set  out  for  Ireland, 


1  Before  this  time  the  archipiscopal  see  had  been  at  Sletty,  afterwards 
it  was  at  Kildare.  Lanigan  (vol.  i.,  chap,  vi.,  note  67)  thinks  that  the 
archbishops. of  those  days  (except  Armagh)  were  not,  strictly  speaking, 
metropolitans.  Dr.  Todd  suggests  that  perhaps  archbishop  in  this  and 
similar  passages  is  only  a  mistranslation  of  the  Irish  ard-epscop — a  chief  or 
eminent  bishop,  pp.  14-16. 


St.  Aidan,  or  Maidoc,  BisJiop  of  Ferns.  689 

fortified  with   his    blessing.     Very    few    weeks    after    his 
departure,  David  went  to  receive  the  reward  of  his  labours. 

The  holy  bishop  of  Ferns  lost  another  valued  friend  in 
the  first  year  of  the  seventh  century.  Bran  Dabh,  king  of 
Leinster,  died  in  the  year  601.^  The  Hy-Nials  had  long  been 
waiting  for  a  chance  to  avenge  the  defeat  and  death  of  their 
kinsman  Aidus,  king  of  Erin.  At  length,  in  the  year  601,  the 
longed-for  opportunity  presented  itself,  and  the  powerful 
northern  family  made  an  incursion  in  force  into  the  province 
of  Leinster.  The  battle  was  fought  at  a  place  called  Slaibne, 
in  which  Bran-Dubh  was  completely  defeated.  The  king 
escaped  from  the  battle,  but  was  afterwards  traitorously 
assassinated  by  a  nobleman  of  Leinster.  Maidoc  was  much 
grieved  at  the  miserable  death  of  his  friend  and  benefactor. 
It  is  recorded  in  his  life  (chap,  xlv.)  that  he  recalled  the  good 
king  to  life  for  a  short  while  by  the  powder  of  his  intercession. 
Then  it  is  related  that  Bran-Dubh,  having  confessed  his  sins 
and  received  with  great  fervour  the  Holy  Viaticum,  departed 
to  receive  the  crown  of  the  just.  His  body  was  deposited, 
according  to  his  own  request,  in  the  Cathedral  of  Ferns. ^ 

For  upwards  of  thirty  years  Maidoc  held  the  episcopal 
see  of  Ferns.  Beside  the  cathedral  he  had  built  a  large 
monastery,  in  which,  whenever  the  duties  of  his  office  allowed, 
he  lived,  and  led  a  life  of  labour  and  mortification.  That  the 
abbey  of  Ferns  was  an  extensive  one  is  clear,  from  the  fact 
that  on  one  occasion  Bran-Dubh,  coming  to  visit  our  saint, 
found  him  labouring  at  the  harvest  with  one  hundred  and  fifty 
of  the  brethren.^  The  humility  and  mutual  charity  of  the 
community  were  a  source  of  edification  to  all  that  knew  them. 
The  rule  was,  no  doubt,  if  not  the  same  as  that  practised  at 
Menevia,  one  very  closely  resembling  it ;  and  Maidoc  him- 
self, who  had  learnt  to  love  that  rule  during  his  stay  in 
Wales,  claimed  no  exemptions  from  its  severity.  That  he 
joined  the  brethren  in  their  watchings  and  prayer,  it  is 
unnecessary  to  say.     He  fasted  much.     Indeed,  it  was  his 


^Annals  of  the  Four  Masters. 

2Archda]l  attributes  this  event  to  the  year  601.       Lanigan  (vol    ii 
page  338)  to  602. 

^  [Afe,  chap,  xxxvii. 

VOL.  XII.  2  X 


690  St.  Aidan,  or  Maidoc,  BisJiop  of  Ferns, 

custom  when  he  wanted  any  special  gift  from  God  to  abstain 
from  food  ;^  and  on  one  occasion  he  is  said  to  have  taken  no 
nourishment  for  forty  days.^  Moreover,  encumbered  though 
he  was  with  the  charge  of  his  diocese,  the  spiritual  care  of 
the  province  of  Leinster,  and  the  direction  of  a  large  number 
of  monasteries,  he  joined  the  monks  at  their  manual  labour. 
He  took  his  part  in  sowing  the  harvest  f  he  planted  fruit- 
trees  ;*  he  sowed  seed  in  the  fields;^  he  at  times,  too,  took 
upon  himself  the  tedious  labour  of  copying  manuscripts/  In 
a  word,  he  taught  the  religious  under  his  charge  by  example 
as  well  as  by  precept. 

Bishop  Maidoc  was  on  terms  of  intimacy  with  many  of 
the  great  saints  of  his  day.  For  St.  Molua,  who  was  his 
spiritual  director,  he  had  the  most  profound  esteem,  and  he 
journeyed  from  time  to  time  to  his  monastery  of  Clonfert- 
Mulloe,  in  the  King's  County,  to  consult  him.  It  is  not 
unlikely  that  the  friendship  of  these  holy  men  began  at  the 
school  of  Clonard;  for,  in  all  probability,  St.  Molua  was  there 
at  the  same  time  as  our  saint.^  During  one  of  the  journeys 
of  St.  Maidoc  to  visit  St.  Molua  it  is  related  that,  as  he  was 
passing  by  the  convent  of  Cluain-Chreduil,^  a  foundation  of 
St.  Ida,  called  the  St.  Brigid  of  Munster,  he  restored  to  life 
one  of  the  nuns  of  the  convent  who  had  just  died,  and  was 
much  beloved  by  the  holy  abbess.  "  All  that  heard  of,  or  were 
witnesses  of,  so  great  a  miracle,"  says  the  biographer  of  our 
saint,  **  gave  praise  to  God." 

St.  Columba,  too,  the  great  apostle  and  abbot  of  lona,  was 
well  known  to  St.  Maidoc.  Both  had  been  brought  up  at 
Clonard,  though,  no  doubt,  St.  Columba  had  left  the  school 
before  St.  Maidoc  arrived.  No  account  is  left  of  any  meeting 
between  these  holy  men  in  their  lifetime,  but  it  is  related 
that  Maidoc  received  a  supernatural  intimation  of  the  death 
of  St.  Columba,  and  that  he  was  a  witness  of  the  triumphant 
entrance  of  that  great  saint  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

Another  holy  man  with  whom  our  saint  was  on  intimate 

^  Vita,  cluap.  xxxvi.  2  Chap,  xxxiv.  ^  Chap,  xxxvii. 

*  Chap.  Ivi.  6  Chap,  xlvii.  ^  Chap.  xli. 
'  Lanigan,  vol.  ii.,  205. 

•  In  Hy-Conuail,  i.e.,  part  of  Limerick.     Ware,  Vol.  i.,  page  50. 


St.  Aictan,  or  Maidoc,  Bishop  of  Ferns.  G9l 

terms  was  St.  Munna,  founder  of  the  great  abbey  of  Teagh 
Munse,  now  Tagmon,  in  the  county  Wexford.  To  this 
monastery  the  holy  bishop  often  went,  and  he  was  always 
received  with  joy  by  the  abbot  and  his  community.  It  was 
during  one  of  these  visits,  whilst  Maidoc  and  his  friend  were 
together  in  the  Church,  that  he  was  the  recipient  of  a  favour 
similar  to  one  of  which  we  read  in  St.  Gregory's  life  of  the 
great  St.  Benedict.  Suddenly  the  range  of  his  vision  was 
enlarged,  and  he  was  able  to  see  the  whole  earth  lying 
revealed  before  his  eyes. 

These  are  but  a  few  out  of  the  great  host  of  St.  Maidoc 's 
friends.  He  was  beloved  by  all  that  met  him,  and  they  were 
numberless,  for  the  many  responsibilities  he  had  in  his 
diocese,  in  his  province,  and  in  his  monasteries,  made  it 
necessary  for  him  to  travel  much  through  the  country.  But 
his  labours  were  not  confined  to  spiritual  things.  He  was 
regarded  in  a  special  way  as  the  protector  of  the  kingdom  of 
Leinster.  Through  his  prayers  and  assistance  the  kingdom 
had  attained  to  its  present  position  in  the  days  of  the  late 
king  Bran-Dabh.  Now,  therefore,  both  princes  and  people 
looked  to  him  for  assistance  in  times  of  trouble.  Nor  was  he 
ever  wanting  to  them  in  their  difficulties.  Some  time  after 
the  death  of  Aidus,  king  of  Erin,  his  son  Cuasgius  had 
marched  into  Leinster  with  an  army  to  avenge  his  death. 
Cuasgius  was,  however,  himself  defeated.  This  was  a  fresh 
reason  for  hostility  between  the  princes  of  the  north  and  the 
king  of  Leinster.  Accordingly,  the  king  of  Erin,  in  alliance 
with  the  kings  of  Ulster  and  Connaught  marched  into  Leinster 
at  the  head  of  twenty-four  thousand  men,  striking  dread  into 
the  hearts  of  the  men  of  Leinster.  Their  king  had  recourse  to 
the  holy  bishop  Maidoc.  Nor  did  he  fail  to  lend  assistance. 
Bidding  the  king  to  be  of  good  heart,  and  go  boldly  to  the  fight, 
he  himself  had  recourse  to  God.  That  night  he  spent  in 
fervent  prayer  before  the  altar.  Next  day  the  battle  was 
foaght,  and  ended  in  the  ignominious  defeat  of  the  invading 
army.  The  allied  kings  had  to  seek  safety  in  an  inglorious 
flight. 

Considerations  of  space  make  it  impossible  for  us  to 
enter  into  the  numerous  miracles  recorded  of  our  saint  during 


692  St.  Aidan,  or  Maidoc,  Bishop  of  Ferns. 

his  lifetime  and  after  his  death.  A  few  we  have  referred  to. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  that  from  his  earhest  years  he  seems  to  have 
been  gifted  by  God  with  supernatural  powers ;  especially  so 
after  he  had  received  the  episcopal  dignity.  He  healed  the 
sick ;  he  raised  the  dead  to  life ;  he  had  the  power  of 
multiplying  food  in  cases  of  need.  He  discomfited  his 
enemies  by  sudden  and  terrible  punishments ;  he  was  able  to 
journey  with  safety  and  wonderful  rapidity  at  times  over 
land  and  sea ;  in  a  word,  God  illustrated  the  virtue  of  his 
servant,  by  according  to  him  a  marvellous  power  over  the 
laws  of  nature. 

Maidoc  ended  as  he  had  begun.  To  the  end  he  led  a  life 
of  prayer,  labour,  and  mortification ;  and  finally,  as  his 
biographer  relates,  "  having  built  many  churches  and  per- 
formed many  miracles,  he  departed  to  Christ  by  a  most  happy 
death."  This  was  in  the  year  632.^  His  body  was  deposited 
in  his  cathedral,  and  his  memory  is  revered  not  only  in 
Ireland,  but  also  in  Wales,  which  he  enlightened  for  many 
years  by  his  virtues.  The  noblest  monument  of  his  zeal  is 
the  diocese  of  Ferns,  which  can  point  to  a  succession  of 
Catholic  bishops  since  his  day,  for  a  period  of  nearly  one 
thousand  three  hundred  years,  and  which  still  maintains 
intact  the  purity  of  the  Catholic  faith. 

J.  A.  HOWLETT,  O.S.B. 


'  Cf.  Ussher,  Ware,  Archdall,  Lanigan,  &c.     2 he  Four   Masters  has 
624. 


[    693    ] 


LETTEKS  AND  COKRESPONDENCE  OF  JOHN 
HENRY  NEWMAN,  DURING  HIS  LIFE  IN  THE 
ENGLISH  CHURCH.!— 11. 

IN  our  first  notice  of  these  volumes  of  Cardinal  Newman's 
Anglican  letters,  we  left  him  at  the  time  where,  after  his 
severe  illness  in  Sicily,  he  returns  to  England,  penetrated 
with  the  idea  that  "  God  has  a  work  for  me  to  do."  The 
direction  which  the  work  is  to  take  is  soon  revealed  and 
made  evident.  In  1833  the  Established  Religion  seemed  in 
a  critical  position.     Newman  writes  :— 

*'  It  was  the  moment  when  the  fears  for  the  Church,  which 
had  long  been  growing,  and  which  arose  not  merely  from  the 
designs,  avowed  or  surmised,  of  her  enemies,  but  from  the  help- 
lessness of  her  friends,  had  led  at  length  to  the  resolution  of  a  few 
brave  and  zealous  men  to  speak  out  and  act.  Ten  Irish  bishoprics 
had  been  at  a  sweep  suppressed,  and  Church  people  were  told  to 
be  thankful  that  things  were  no  worse." 

Amongst  these  brave  and  zealous  men,  it  is  needless  to 
say,  Newman  was  the  foremost. 

On  July  14th,  1833,  Keble  preached  his  celebrated  assize 
sermon,  entitled  "  National  Apostasy,"  and  on  this  event 
Newman  ever  looked  as  the  commencement  of  the  Tractarian 
movement.  It  was  shortly  followed  by  several  meetings  of 
like-minded  clergymen,  the  best-known  among  them  being 
Newman,  Keble,  and  Hurrell  Froude  (Piisey  only  joined  the 
movement  later  on),  in  which  two  plans  were  discussed  for 
arousing  the  religious  instincts  of  English  Churchmen,  and 
stirring  them  out  of  the  death-like  apathy  which  was 
imperilhng  the  existence  of  their  body.  These  plans  were, 
the  formation  of  an  association  for  the  defence  of  the  Anglican 
Church,  and  the  idea  of  issuing  a  series  of  doctrinal  and 
devotional  pamphlets.  As  to  the  first  scheme,  we  hear 
little  more  of  it  in  these  letters  ;  the  second  resulted  in  the 
publication  of  the  famous  "  Tracts  for  the  Times." 

Although,  perhaps,  hardly  reaHzing  the  full  extent  of  the 

^  Edited  by  Anne  Mozley.    2  Vols.      London  :   Longmans.     1891. 


694    Letters  and  Corresponde^ice  of  John  Henry  NeiV7nan, 

revolution  in  the  Church  of  England  which  they  were 
anxious  to  bring  about,  and  which,  as  a  fact,  from  one  point 
of  view,  they  actually  accomplished,  yet,  from  the  first,  the 
Tractarians  admitted  that  their  scheme  was  a  bold  one.  It 
was  none  other  than  to  work  a  radical  change  in  the  religion 
of  their  country ;  to  force  a  Catholic  meaning  into  every 
ambiguous  formulary  ;  and  to  ignore  the  Protestantism  which 
for  centuries  their  Church  had  been  supposed  to  teach — in 
fact,  had  taught.  Now,  as  we  all  know,  the  exact  meaning 
of  words  lies  in  the  interpretation  attached  to  them  ;  and  if 
this  is  suddenly  changed  from  one  point  to  its  exact  opposite, 
a  startling  difference  in  the  effect  of  the  teaching  of  such 
words  ensues.  Over  and  above  the  change  of  meaning  of 
the  Anglican  formularies  which  was  to  be  brought  about  by 
the  teaching  of  the  Tracts,  there  was  also  much  either  taught 
by,  or  implied  in,  the  Prayer-book,  which,  at  this  date,  was 
ignored  by  the  clergy  and  the  laity  alike  ;  and  it  was 
desired  also  to  bring  back  such  teaching  into  the  practical 
life  of  English  Churchmen.  Hurrell  Froude  was  not  far 
wrong  when,  at  an  early  meeting  of  Tractarians,  he 
exclaimed,  with  perhaps  truer  prophetic  vision  than  his 
associates:  "I  don't  see  why  we  should  disguise  from 
ourselves  that  our  object  is  to  dictate  to  the  clergy  of  this 
country." 

Even  Newman  himself,  however,  seems  to  have  foreseen 
great  difficulties  in  un-Protestantising  his  fellow-countrymen, 
and  in  persuading  them  that,  doubt  it  as  they  might,  their 
Church  was  really  Catholic  ;  for  he  writes  :  "  We  floored  so 
miserably  at  the  Eeformation,  that,  though  the  Church 
ground  is  defensible,  yet  the  edge  of  truth  is  so  fine,  no  plain 
man  can  see  it."  Nor  did  outsiders  anticipate  great  success 
for  the  party.  Bunsen,  a  keen  though  an  unsympathetic  critic, 
on  reading  Newman's  History  of  the  Arians,  in  which  his 
Tractarian  views  were  prominent,  says  that,  should  the 
party  succeed  in  leavening  the  whole  of  England  with  their 
teaching,  they  would  but  be  "  introducing  Popery  without 
authority.  Protestantism  without  liberty,  Catholicism  without 
universality,  and  Evangelicism  without  spirituality."  In 
fact,  the  Tractarian  scheme  was  likely  to  raise  an  amount  of 


during  Ids  life  in  the  English  Church.  695 

opposition,  the  force  of  which  was  well-nigh  incalculable. 
Every  religious  instinct  in  the  England  of  those  days  was 
antagonistic  to  the  Catholic  Church,  and  these  instincts  were 
quite  incapable  of  drawing  the  fine  line  between  what 
Newman  called  ''Koman,"  as  distinct  from  ''Catholic" 
teachinof.  He  was,  therefore,  confronted  with  the  full  force 
of  the  Enghsh  prejudice  against  the  Church,  and,  of  course, 
entirely  misupported  by  the  Catholic  Church,  which,  in  spite 
of  popular  opinion  to  the  contrary,  he  opposed. 

The  storm  was  not,  however,  aroused  quite  at  first,  and 
Newman's  new  and  startling  teaching  did  not,  in  its  earliest 
days,  meet  with  great  opposition.  His  attitude  towards  the 
bishops  was  one  of  complete  submission.  In  directing  the 
tone  to  be  taken  in  one  of  the  first  tracts,  he  writes  : — - 
"  Recollect  that  we  are  supporting  the  bishops  ;  enlarge  on 
the  unfairness  of  leaving  them  to  bear  the  brunt  of  the 
battle."  A  little  later  on,  he  asserts  his  willingness  to 
submit  at  once  to  any  advice  or  correction  which  they  might 
offer,  and  even,  should  they  so  desire,  to  confine  the  subjects 
of  the  tracts  entirely  to  such  as  concern  the  Creeds  and  the 
Thirty-Nine  Articles.  Indeed,  even  later,  when  he  was  being 
most  keenly  opposed,  and  was  often  placed  in  cruelly  false 
positions,  we  never  detect  any  sign  of  the  defiant  and 
rebellious  spirit  which  has  disfigured  so  much  zealous  and 
excellent  work  in  those  who  profess  to-day  to  be  the 
Anglican  representatives  of  Tractarian  teaching.  Newman's 
attitude,  through  a  very  trying  period  of  misrepresentation, 
is  above  criticism. 

Early  in  the  movement,  it  suffered  the  loss  of  one  who, 
had  he  lived  longer,  might  have  greatly  influenced  its  course. 
In  February,  1836,  Hurrell  Froude  died,  and  his  death  was 
not  only  of  public  moment,  but  was  also  a  deep  personal 
sorrow  to  Newman.  As  we  stated  last  month,  it  was  in  order 
that  Froude  should  escape  an  English  winter,  that  he  and 
Newman  went  abroad  in  1833.  No  cure  of  his  illness,  how- 
ever, resulted  from  the  trip,  and  during  the  three  following 
years  his  health  gradually  declined  ;  and  although  he  eagerly 
joined  in  the  scheme  for  writing  the  early  tracts,  he  did  not 
live  to  see  the  results  ^hich  speedily  followed  on  their  issue. 


696    Letters  and  Correspondence  of  John  Henry  Newman, 

The  movement  went  on,  in  spite  of  his  loss,  but  its  course 
was  probably  less  brilliant  for  the  extinction  of  his  energizing 
presence,  and,  at  the  outset,  he  seemed  to  those  with  whom 
he  worked  as  absolutely  essential  to  the  original  impulse 
which  set  them  going.  As  Miss  Mozley  writes  :  "  They 
cannot  imagine  the  start  without  his  forwarding,  impelhng 
look  and  voice."  He  was,  at  this  date,  Newman's  dearest 
friend,  and  the  grief  the  latter  experienced  at  his  death  is 
pathetically  described  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Bowden  :^ 

"  He  has  been  so  very  dear  to  me  [writes  Newman],  that  it  is 
an  effort  to  me  to  reflect  on  my  own  thoughts  about  him.  I  can 
never  have  a  greater  loss,  looking  on  the  whole  of  my  life.  .  .  . 
I  never,  on  the  whole,  fell  in  with  so  gifted  a  person.  In  variety 
and  perfection  of  gifts  he  far  exceeded  3ven  Keble." 

The  year  1836  seems  to  have  been  a  momentous  one  in 
Newman's  life,  and  not  alone  for  the  loss  of  Froude,  nor  even 
for  that  of  his  mother,  which  followed  closely  on  it.  He  him- 
self tabulates  nine  important  events  of  this  year,  bracketing 
them  together  under  the  heading:  ''  A  New  Scene  Opens." 
Amongst  these  we  note,  "  My  Knowing  and  Using  the 
Breviary  ;"  and  again,  ''  My  Writing  against  the  Church  of 
Eome."  Although  he  had  good  cause  for  dejection  at  this 
time,  it  is  in  this  year  that  he  writes  to  his  sister,  he  is  so 
full  of  work  that  he  has  little  time  for  sadness.  He  owns  to 
feeling  solitary,  but  adds:  "  I  never  feel  so  near  heaven  as 
then.  .  .  I  am  not  more  lonely  than  I  have  been  for  a  long 
while.  God  intends  me  to  be  lonely  ;  He  has  so  framed  my 
mind  that  I  am  in  a  great  measure  beyond  the  sympathy  of 
other  people,  and  thrown  upon  Himself." 

At  this  date,  although  he  might  lack  sympathy,  he  had 
not  yet  to  complain  of  absolute  misunderstanding.  The  tracts 
were  following  one  another  with  rapidity;  they  were  welcomed 
and  read  with  interest ;  the  effect  of  their  teaching  was  already 
apparent,  and  Tract arian  views  were  spreading  in  a  manner 
which  surprised  even  their  promoters.  All  was  promising,  and 
Newman's  letters  sound  a  glad,  even  a  triumphant,  note.  Con- 
scious of  his  loyalty  to  the  Church  of  England,  only  anxious 
to  arouse  and  revivify  her,  with  no  mistrust  as  to  his  position, 


during  his  life  in  the  English  Church.  697 

he  could  cheerfully  suffer  to  be  opposed  by  those  from  whom 
he  frankly  and  avowedly  differed  ;  and  at  this  date  no  sadness 
mingles  with  his  anxiety  to  spread  his  opinions.  Later  on, 
the  tone  of  his  letters  changes  sensibly,  a  change  caused 
even  less  by  the  tardily-avowed  opposition  of  the  Anglican 
authorities  than  by  the  spirit  of  distrust  in  his  own  self,  which 
further  study  has  aroused.  It  is  this  mistrust  in  his  own 
loyalty  to  the  Anglican  Church  which  weighs  him  down  so 
heavily,  and  makes  the  later  letters  in  this  volume  so  sad 
and  pitiful  that  we  almost  feel  that  we — as  more  or  less 
indifferent  spectators — have  no  right  to  be  witnesses  of  such 
keen  suffering,  or  to  be  admitted  to  the  sight  of  the  intoler- 
able anguish  of  a  soul  awakening  to  the  fact  that,  though  all 
unconsciously,  he  has  been  using  God's  best  gifts  against  and 
not  in  His  service.  It  has  been  well  said  that  our  sorrow  is 
the  inverted  image  of  our  nobleness ;  and  in  nothing  does 
Newman's  nobility  stand  forth  more  prominently  than  in 
the  trying  years  when  he  lay  on  his  ''Anglican  death- 
bed." 

It  is  in  August,  1838,  that  we  begin  to  hear  the  first 
murmurings  of  disapproval,  then  only  faint  and  distant,  but 
which  soon  were  to  engulf  Newman  and  so  many  of  his 
friends.  At  that  date  we  have  a  letter  from  Newman  to 
Keble,  in  which  he  writes  that  he  has  just  been  listening  to 
his  bishop's  charge,  and  that  in  it  he  had  discovered  a  certain, 
though  not  a  strong  disapproval  of  the  tracts  and  their 
tendency.  The  bishop,  Newman  writes,  alludes  to  a 
remarkable  development,  both  in  matters  of  discipline  and  of 
doctrine,  and  states  that  he  had  received  many  anonymous 
letters  charging  the  Tractarian  party  with  Eomanising  ;  and 
that,  although,  on  investigating  these  charges,  he  finds  nothing 
to  corroborate  such  accusations,  yet  he  regrets  some  words 
and  expressions  in  the  tracts,  which,  though  used  innocently 
by  the  writers,  were  likely  to  lead  otheisinto  error.  Feeble 
as  this  censure  was,  it  touched  Newman's  sensitiveness  to 
the  quick,  and  it  is  on  this  occasion  that  he  used  the  oft- 
quoted,  though  we  fear  by  Anglicans  little-heeded,  words  : 
''  A  bishop's  lightest  word,  ex  cathedra,  is  heavy."  He  him- 
self wishes  to  discontinue  the  tracts  forthwith.     He  writes  at 


698    Letters  and  Correspondence  of  John  Henry  Neivmanj 

once  to  his  archdeacon,  proposing  to  stop  their  issue ;  and, 
further,  that  if  the  bishop  will  only  designate  such  amongst 
those  already  published  as  meet  with  his  disapproval,  he 
(Newman)  will  withdraw  them  from  circulation.  This  is 
more  than  the  bishop  anticipated,  or  even  wished.  His 
position  was  a  difficult  one,  so  difficult  that  we  find  it  no 
easy  task  even  to  make  it  intelligible  to  our  readers.  He 
personally  liked  and  respected  Newman,  knowing  him  too 
well  to  suspect  him  capable  of  equivocal  teaching,  of  saying 
less  that  he  intended  to  mean,  or  of  any  want  of  straight- 
forwardness— accusations  of  which  were  freely  banded  about ; 
and  he  also  approved  decidedly  of  much  that  was  in  the 
tracts.  But  a  bishop  of  the  EstaWishment  has  much  to 
think  of  besides  his  own  individual  tastes  and  opinions,  and 
he  is  bound  to  give  heed  even  to  anonymous  accusations  of 
a  tendency  to  the  unpopular  side  supposed  to  be  expoused  by 
the  tracts.  The  words  the  "  Established  Church  "  mean 
a  religion  consisting  of  such  an  innumerable  number  of 
opinions  and  of  different  shades  of  opinion,  that  an  Anghcan 
bishop's  lot  does  not  fall  in  easy  places,  and  to  avoid  mistakes 
he  must  be  wary.  In  the  year  1838,  and  even  to-day,  many 
forms  of  opinion  sufficiently  startling  might  pass  unnoticed, 
provided  the  orthodox  Protestantism  of  the  Church  of 
England  was  unassailed.  Unfortunately,  this  was  the  very 
point  which  Newman's  enemies  had  seized  on,  and  it  was  of 
Komanising  that  he  was  accused.  Here  the  bishop  felt  that 
he  might  imperil  his  own  influence  if,  whilst  expressing 
approval  of  much  which  really  commended  itself  to  him,  he 
did  not  so  far  yield  to  the  popular  outcry  against  the  tracts 
by  expressing  some  vague  disapproval.  Newman  was  far 
too  sensitive  to  the  censure  of  his  superiors  to  submit 
easily  to  public  reproof,  even  whilst  in  private  he  met  with 
sympathy  and  encouragement.  The  tracts  spoke  with  no 
hesitating  voice  of  the  authority  of  a  bishop,  and  of  the 
obedience  and  deference  which  is  due  to  his  office,  and 
Newman  had  no  disposition  to  allow  himself  to  be  placed  in 
the  false  position  of  one  who,  whilst  he  theoretically  enun- 
ciated decided  views,  in  his  own  conduct  ignored  them.  The 
whole  strength  of  his  position  lay  in  his  consistency;  his  life 


during  his  life  in  the  English  Church,  699 

and  his  teaching  must  be  in  harmony  ;  and  he,  therefore, 
only  required  to  be  told  his  bishop's  wishes  in  order  to  comply 
with  them.  Such  definite  and  exact  obedience  did  not  suit 
his  lordship  ;  he  had  no  wish  to  force  Newman  to  discon- 
tinue the  tracts,  but  he  equally  disliked  that  it  should  be 
supposed  that  he  approved  of  them.  The  result  was  that 
whilst  the  "  charge  "  was  made  public,  the  sympathetic  and 
kind  words  with  which  he  encouraged  Newman  were  spoken 
in  private,  thus  placing  him  (Newman)  in  a  position  the 
difficulty  of  which  he  felt  keenly.  He  himself  tells  us,  that 
at  this  time  his  influence  stood  higher  than  at  any  other 
time  ;  but,  judging  from  his  letters,  we  should  say  that  the 
meridian  of  his  Anghcan  hfe  is  now  past.  A  certain  mis- 
giving, at  first  faint  as  a  shadow,  is  becoming  evident ;  he 
suffers  from  the  extreme  tension  of  the  times,  the  difficulty 
of  satisfying  all  who  are  looking  up  to  him  as  their  guide 
daily  becomes  more  apparent,  whilst  his  share  in  the  move- 
ment is  criticized  far  and  wide.  In  November,  1838, 
Newman  writes  a  long  letter  to  Keble,  which  is  hardly  one 
which  a  man  would  send  who  felt  well  satisfied  with  the 
world.  In  his  letter  he  offers  to  be  guided  entirely  by 
Keble's  decision  in  any  differences  that  may  have  arisen,  and 
he  continues  : — 

"  Now,  this  being  understood,  may  I  not  fairly  ask  for  some 
little  confidence  in  me,  as  to  what,  under  these  voluntary  restric- 
tions, I  do  ?  People  should  really  put  themselves  into  my  place, 
and  consider  how  the  appearance  of  suspicion,  jealously,  and  dis- 
content is  likely  to  affect  one  who  is  most  conscious  that  everything 
he  does  is  imperfect,  and,  therefore,  soon  begins  so  to  suspect  every- 
thing he  does  as  to  have  no  heart  and  little  power  to  do  anything 
at  all.  Anyone  can  fancy  the  effect  which  the  presence  of  ill- 
disposed  spectators  would  have  on  some  artist  or  operator  engaged 
in  a  delicate  experiment.  Is  such  conduct  kind  towards  me  ?  Is 
it  feeling?  If  I  ought  to  stop,  I  am  ready  to  stop  ;  but  do  not 
in  the  same  breath  chide  me,  for  instance,  for  thinking  of  stopping 
the  tracts,  and  then  be  severe  on  the  tracts  which  are  actually 
published.  If  I  am  to  proceed,  I  must  be  taken  for  what  I  am — 
not  agreeing,  perhaps,  altogether  with  those  who  criticize  me,  but 
still,  I  suppose,  on  the  whole,  subserving  rather  than  not  what 
they  consider  right  ends.  This  I  feel,  that  if  I  am  met  with  loud 
remonstrances  before  gentle  hints  are  tried,  and  if  suspicions  go 
before  proofs,  I  shall  very  soon  be  silenced,  whether  people  wish 
it  or  no.'' 


700    Letters  a7id  Corresponde7ice  of  John  Henry  Newman, 

To  this  letter  is  affixed,  by  Newman,  a  note  in  1885 : 
''  This  was  the  last  occasion  on  which  I  could  prefer  a  claim 
for  confidence.  The  very  next  autumn  my  misgivings  began." 
Words  of  ominous  meaning  ;  and  we  have  now  to  trace  the 
steps,  one  by  one,  which  led  to  the  great  change  impending, 
and  to  see  how  Newman  came  to  realize  the  futility  of  all 
his  hopes,  the  necessity  for  leaving  the  body  which  he  had 
been  so  bravely  trying  to  reform,  and  of  taking  rank  with 
those  whom  he  had  ever  looked  on  as  buried  in  dark  error. 
Our  task  is  made  the  more  difficult  by  the  fragmentary 
nature  of  the  tale  as  it  is  told  in  these  volumes.  A  stray 
expression  here  and  there,  often  in  letters  dealing  mainly 
with  other  topics,  a  growing  sadness  and  depression  as  his 
Catholic  theories  are  daily  contradicted  by  the  evidently 
Protestant  acts  of  his  Church,  are  of  moment  as  marking  a 
gradual  change  :  yet  as  a  whole,  if  we  compare  the  story  of 
Newman's  conversion  as  told  in  his  ''  Letters,"  with  its 
consecutive  history  in  the  Apologia,  we  realize  how  fortu- 
nate we  are  in  possessing  a  work  which  tells  us  in  a  way 
none  can  question,  how  the  important  change  was  worked 
out.  His  conversion  has  been  attributed  to  various  causes ; 
both  good  and  bad  reasons  have  been  given  for  the  change ; 
and  there  is  evidence  in  these  letters  that  many  of  which  we 
hear,  were  not  without  their  share  of  influence.  Still,  on 
the  whole,  we  gather  that  one,  and  one  only,  motive  brought 
about  the  happy  result.  "We  see  that  distrust  of  those  in 
authority,  though  not  without  a  certain  effect,  was  not  the 
cause  ;  and  that  the  difficulty  of  being  placed  in  a  logical 
dilemma  by  shrewd  minds,  who  often  saw  that  Newman's 
premises  led  further  than  he  suspected,  could  ha\e  been 
overcome.  Nor  would  dissatisfaction  at  such  acts  of  the 
Establishment  as  the  Hampden  and  Jerusalem  bishoprics, 
though  painful  episodes,  have  led  to  further  action,  but  for 
the  steadily-growing  belief — at  first  a  mere  disquieting  and 
alarming  impression,  but  with  deeper  study  growing 
into  a  firm  conviction — that  outside  the  Church  of  Eome 
there  is  no  consistent  Christian  body  whatsoever;  that 
as  she  stood  in  the  days  of  the  Donatists  and  Mono- 
physites,  so  she   was   found   through   the   ever-lengthening 


during  his  life  in  the  English  Church,  701 

years,   and   so   she   stands   to-day,    Christ's   one   and   only 
Church. 

It  was  a  few  months  after  the  letter  to  Keble  (quoted 
above)  was  written,  in  which  Newman  insists  that  confidence 
must  be  placed  in  him  ;  that  he  received  what  he  calls  "  the 
first  real  hit  from  Komanism  that  has  happened  to  me ;"  and 
he  adds :  "It  is  no  laughing  matter;  I  will  not  blink  the 
question;  so  be  it."  The  occasion  of  these  first  misgivings 
was  the  study  of  an  article  by  Dr.  Wiseman  in  the  Dublin 
Beview,  on  the  early  controversies  of  the  Church  with  the 
Monophysites  and  the  Donatists ;  and,  as  we  learn,  though 
far  more  fully  from  the  Apologia  than  from  these  letters, 
these  misgivings  were  never  stifled  or  laid  to  rest;  but,  with 
study  and  reflection,  became  more  and  more  active, 
and  at  length  landed  Newman  safely  in  the  haven  of 
peace  and  rest  in  which  the  second  half  of  his  life  was 
passed. 

Henry  W.  Wilberforce,  one  of  those  who,  "  leaving  all 
things,"  eventually  followed  in  Newman's  footsteps,  has 
given  us  a  record  of  his  feelings  when  first  confronted  with 
the  fear  of  Newman's  change  of  religion.  It  is  worth 
notice,  as  an  example  of  the  power  the  truth  will  exercise, 
when  once  firmly  grasped,  in  dispelling  prejudice,  and  of  the 
courageous  manner  in  which  many  of  the  converts  of  1845 
broke  with  their  early  teaching.  The  evidence  required  to 
shake  the  convictions  of  one  who  could  write  as  below, 
must  have  been  of  the  strongest : — ■ 

"  It  was  in  the  beginning  of  October,  1839,  that  he  made  the 
astounding  confidence,  mentioning  the  two  subjects  which  had 
inspired  the  doubt—  the  position  of  St.  Leo  in  the  Monophysite 
controversy,  and  the  principle  securus  judical  orbis  terrarum  in 
that  of  the  Donatists.  He  said  that  he  felt  confident  that  when 
he  returned  to  his  rooms,  and  was  able  fully  and  calmly  to 
consider  the  whole  matter,  he  should  see  his  way  completely  out 
of  the  difficulty.  But  he  said  :  '  I  cannot  conceal  from  myself 
that,  for  the  first  time  since  I  began  the  study  of  theology,  a  vista 
has  been  opened  before  me,  to  the  end  of  which  I  do  not  see.' 
He  was  walking  in  the  New  Forrest,  and  he  borrowed  the  form 
of  his  expression  from  the  surrounding  scenery.  His  companion, 
upon  whom  such  a  fear  came  like  a  thunderstroke,  expressed  his 
hope  that  Mr.  Newman  might  die  rather  than  take  such  a  step. 


702    Letters  and  Correspondence  of  John  Henry  Newman, 

He  replied,  with  deep  earnestness,  that  he  had  thought,  if 
ever  the  time  should  come  when  he  was  in  serious  danger,  of 
asking  his  friends  to  pray,  that,  if  it  was  not  indeed  the  will  of 
God,  he  might  be  taken  away  before  he  did  it," 

As  we  have  just  remarked,  Newman's  *'  calm  and  full" 
consideration  does  not  improve  matters ;  and  soon  diffi- 
culty follows  quickly  on  difficulty,  and  the  end  of  the  vista 
yearly  becomes  more  evident.  Even  his  own  particular  work 
does  but  hasten  the  end.  As  is  well  known,  he  had  both 
studied  the  Fathers  and  published  editions  of  their  works 
with  the  view  of  supporting  such  Catholic  doctrines  as 
Baptismal  Eegeneration,  the  Keal  Presence,  Apostolic 
Succession,  and  others  of  a  kindred  nature — doctrines  which 
he  imagined  could  be  held  by  Anglicans,  and  which  he 
distinguished  as  "  Catholic,"  and  as  differing  from  others 
(which  generally  were  simply  their  logical  development) 
which  he  labelled  "Koman."  The  former  had  a  certain 
amount  of  authority  in  the  Establishment  as  having  been 
taught  by  the  Caroline  divines  of  the  English  Church ;  and 
Newman  wished  to  make  them  more  generally  known  and 
accepted,  by  showing  that  they  rested  on  the  firm  basis  of 
patristic  teaching.  The  Anglican  divines  were  to  be 
supported  by  the  Fathers,  and  Newman  hoped  that  his 
countrymen  would  find  their  united  teaching  irresistible. 
Once,  however,  having  appealed  to  the  Fathers  as  the 
ground  on  which  his  teaching  rested,  so  honest  a  mind  as 
Newman's  could  not  ignore  their  teaching  when  it  went 
further  than  his  argument  required.  He  could  not  quote 
them  for  his  own  purpose,  but  remain  indifferent  to  what  he 
found  elsewhere  in  their  writings,  even  when  it  reached  the 
point  which  till  now  he  had  considered  sheer  "  Komanism.*' 
In  November,  1839,  he  writes  of  others  what  we  expect  he 
must  have  been  himself  experiencing  : — 

'*  Then  the  question  of  the  Fathers  is  getting  more  and  more 
anxious.  For  certain  persons  will  not  find  in  them  just  what 
they  expected.  People  seem  to  have  thought  they  contained 
nothing  but  the  doctrines  of  Baptismal  Eegeneration,  Apostolical 
Succession,  Canonicity  of  Scripture,  and  the  like.  Hence,  many 
have  embraced  the  principle  of  appeal  to  them  with  this  view. 
Now  they  are  beginning  to  be  undeceived." 


during  his  life  in  the  English  Church,  703 

In  1840  Newman  is  seriously  depressed  by  the  state  not 
only  of  the  religious  world,  but  also  of  the  tone  he  finds 
prevalent  amongst  both  intellectual  and  scientific  people. 
Carlyle,  Arnold,  and  Milman,  politicians,  geologists,  and 
political  econonaists,  seem  uniting  to  bring  about  a  deplorable 
state  of  things  :  — 

''  Everything  is  miserable  [he  writes].  I  expect  a  great 
attack  upon  the  Bible  .  .  .  indeed,  I  have  long  expected  it  .  .  . 
But  this  is  not  all.  I  begin  to  have  serious  apprehensions  lest 
any  religious  body  is  strong  enough  to  withstand  the  league  of 
evil  but  the  Eoman  Church  .  .  .  Certainly,  the  way  good 
principles  have  shot  up  is  wonderful ;  but  I  am  not  clear  they 
are  not  tending  to  Kome." 

Such  an  admission  must  have  cost  Newman  dear.  Was 
not  this  the  very  thing  that  his  enemies  had  been  continu- 
ally insisting  on;  and  although  he  slightly  qualified  his 
assertion  later  on  in  the  letter,  it  is  ominous  of  what  is  to 
follow. 

It  was  also  in  this  year  (1840)  that  Newman  commenced 
building  what  he  styles  a  "  monastic  house,"  at  his  comitry 
living  of  Littlemore.  This  living  was  attached  to  that  of 
St.  Mary's,  Oxford,  and  was  a  source  of  great  interest  to 
Newman  and  to  his  mother  and  sisters,  who  settled  there 
after  his  father's  death.  In  this  same  year  he  purchased 
some  nine  or  ten  acres  at  Littlemore,  and  there  built  a 
dwelling-house  which  was  to  be  inhabited  by  men  from 
Oxford,  who,  sharing  his  opinions,  wished  to  give  themselves 
to  a  regular  life  of  religion  and  study.  When  the  cares  and 
fretting  of  Oxford  life  became  overpowering,  Newman  found 
a  welcome  retreat  in  this  aibode;  and  as  his  doubts  and 
difficulties  became  more  perplexing  and  overwhelming,  his 
visits  to  Littlemore  lengthen,  till,  during  the  last  years  of  his 
Anglican  life,  when  he  had  relinquished  all  preferment  in  the 
Establishment,  it  became  his  permanent  home,  and  at 
last  it  was  the  scene  of  his  reception  into  the  Catholic 
Church. 

The  next  few  years  are  pregnant  with  important  issues,  and, 
although,  as  we  have  seen,  Newman  found  much  occasion  for 
dissatisfaction  as  early  as  the  year  1840,  it  was  in  1841  that 


704     Letters  and  Corresp07idence  of  John  Henry  Newman, 

commenced  the  series  of  events  which  may  be  considered  the 
outward  and  impersonal  causes,  over  and  above  the  inward 
conviction  which  God's  grace  was  forming  within  him,  and 
which,  combined  with  such  events,  brought  about  the  happy 
result  with  which  we  are  familiar.  In  1841  Newman  wrote  his 
famous  Tract  Ninety,  which,  as  is  well  known,  was  concerned 
with  the  possibility  of  interpreting  the  decidedly  Protestant 
Thirty-Nine  Articles  of  the  Anglican  Prayer-book  in  a  Catholic 
sense.  He  seems  to  have  been  quite  unprepared  for  the 
excitement  which  followed  its  publication,  and  to  have  been 
far  from  expecting  that  it  would  create  any  special  interest. 
Nor,  apparently,  did  Keble,  to  whom  Newman  showed  it, 
expect  any  stir  to  result,  for  he  allowed  it  to  pass  without  any 
further  criticism.  More  than  one  circumstance,  however, 
combined  to  bring  this  tract  into  special  notice.  By  the 
time  it  was  published,  the  movement  was  creating  much 
interest ;  the  daily  papers  were  busy  discussing  "  Puseyism," 
as  it  was  now  called ;  and,  although  its  earnestness  was 
recognised,  and  the  danger  of  mistaking  it  for  an  affair  of 
mere  posture  and  ceremony  was  admitted,  yet,  on  the  whole, 
it  met  with  little  popular  favour.  The  subject  was  also 
discussed  in  Parliament,  on  the  occasion  of  one  of  the  ever- 
recurring  debates  on  the  grant  to  Maynooth  College.  This 
was  made  the  occasion  of  an  attack  on  the  Oxford  party, 
wherein,  as  it  was  stated,  were  to  be  found  those  who,  whilst 
they  were  paid  to  teach  Protestantism,  were  doing  their  best 
to  bring  the  Establishment  into  harmony  with  Kome.  It 
was  at  this  moment  of  public  excitement,  when  the  world 
was  fully  alive  and  anxious  to  understand  all  that  was  going 
on  at  Oxford,  and  when  people  were  frightened  and  confused 
by  the  tone  of  the  papers,  and  by  the  debates  in  Parliament, 
that  Tract  Ninety  appeared.  We  cannot  be  surprised  that, 
instead  of  allaying,  it  further  excited  the  public  mind.  Its 
subtle  distinctions,  we  must  fairly  admit,  were  enough  to 
puzzle  plain  people.  The  Thirty-Nine  Articles  had  always 
been  considered  a  bulwark  of  Protestantism,  especially  against 
such  errors  of  Kome  as  the  doctrine  of  the  Mass,  the  Invoca- 
tion of  Saints,  Purgatory,  and  others  of  a  like  nature,  which, 
whilst  the  Tractarians  called  "  Eomanism,"  as  held  by  us, 


during  his  life  in  the  English  Church.  705 

yet  from  their  study  of  the  Fathers  they  found  no  system, 
professing  to  be  Catholic,  could  exclude  from  its  teaching.  In 
some  form  or  other  they  must  be  recognised.  The  difficulty 
was  met  with  great  ingenuity ;  and  Newman  endeavoured  to 
prove  that  the  Articles  were  so  framed  as  only  to  condemn 
certain  popular  abuses  in  the  Church  of  Eome ;  and  that 
their  language  admitted  of  an  interpretation  which  was  in 
harmony  with  Catholic  teaching. 

Such  fine  shades  of  meaning  and  such  subtle  distinctions, 
were,  however,  altogether  beyond  the  somewhat  dense  vision 
of  the  ordinary  Englishman.  His  intellectual  strong  point  is 
not  the  power  of  distinguishing  between  delicate  differences  ; 
and  he  is  somewhat  contemptuous  of  what  he  calls  hair- 
splitting ;  and  a  storm  such  as  the  Establishment  has  seldom 
witnessed  suddenly  arose.  The  tutors,  professors,  and  heads 
of  houses,  all  Oxford,  indeed  all  England,  seem  to  have  been 
alarmed,  and  to  have  rushed  into  hasty  action,  the  details  of 
which  it  is  now  unnecessary  to  follow.  As  is  well  known 
from  his  own  pen,  Newman  considered  his  position  in  the 
movement  so  damaged  that  his  legitimate  influence  was  at 
an  end,  and  he  retired  to  Littlemore.  Though  the  end  was 
not  yet,  we  may  call  this  move  its  beginning.  The  Koman 
spectre,  far  from  being  laid,  was  daily  becoming  more 
importunate ;  and  besides,  its  disquieting  warnings,  misre- 
presentations and  misunderstandings  from  his  own  people, 
cause  a  constant  worry.  Anglicans  to-day  fondly  imagine 
that  had  Newman  at  this  time  been  treated  with  more 
sympathy,  they  might  have  kept  him  in  their  ranks.  This 
is,  of  course,  a  surmise  from  which  we  differ,  believing  that, 
all  along,  God's  finger  was  on  him,  and  that  sooner  or  later 
He  would  have  claimed  him  for  His  own.  There  is,  however, 
no  denying  that  had  the  Anglican  body  studied  how  best  to 
drive  a  sensitive,  yet  loyal  man  from  their  Church,  they 
could  have  devised  few  better  methods  than  those  practised 
on  Newman.     As  he  tells  us  in  the  Apologia : — • 

"  After  Tract  Ninety,  the  Protestant  world  would  not  let  me 

alone.     They  pursued  me  in  the  public   journals  to  Littlemore. 

Eeports  of  all  kinds  were  circulated  about  me.     Inquiries  why 

did  I  go  to  Littlemore  at  all  ?      For  no  good  purpose,  certainly ; 

VOL.  XII.  2  Y 


706     Letters  and  Correspondence  of  John  Henry  Newman. 

I  dare  not  tell  why.  Why,  to  be  sure,  it  was  hard  that  1  should 
be  obliged  to  say  to  the  editors  of  newspapers,  that  I  went  up 
there  to  say  my  prayers.  It  was  hard  to  have  to  tell  the  world 
in  confidence  that  I  had  a  certain  doubt  about  the  Anglican 
system,  and  could  not  at  that  moment  resolve  it,  or  say  what 
would  come  of  it.  It  was  hard  to  have  to  confess  that  I  had 
thought  of  giving  up  my  living  a  year  or  two  before,  and  that  this 
was  the  first  step  to  it.  It  was  hard  to  have  to  plead  that,  for 
what  I  knew,  my  doubts  would  vanish  if  the  newspapers  would 
be  so  good  as  to  give  me  time,  and  let  me  alone." 

Although,  on  the  whole,  his  own  bishop  treated  him  with 
kindness  and  consideration,  yet,  even  he  brings  foolish  reports 
seriously  to  his  notice,  asks  for  explanations,  and  seems  to 
give  heed  to  much,  which,  whilst  it  is  mere  silly  gossip,  is 
yet  calculated  to  annoy  Newman,  and  simply  to  drive  him 
further  and  more  quickly  in  the  direction  towards  which  his 
teaching  was  accused  of  leading.  Throughout  these  trying 
years,  however,  Newman,  though  hurt  and  distrustful,  and 
almost  overwhelmed  with  doubts  of  his  own  position,  and 
sorrow  at  the  grief  and  perplexities  which  his  doubts  cause 
to  his  followers,  yet  never  loses  patience.  From  the  first, 
he  has  strongly  deprecated  all  hasty  or  precipitate  action. 
No  unconsidered  step,  no  change  made  when  smarting 
under  misunderstanding,  meets  with  his  approval.  The 
very  attraction  which  many  Protestants  feel  for  the  Catholic 
Church,  in  his  advice  to  others,  he  urges  should  be  resisted, 
and  not  allowed  unduly  to  influence  tliem  in  a  change  of 
religion.  He  will  leave  no  stone  unturned,  nor  will  he 
relinguish  all  hope  of  the  possibility  of  the  Anglican  Church 
being  a  part  of  the  Catholic  Church  till  every  chance  has 
been  seriously  examined  and  deliberately  cast  aside.  The 
letters  of  these  years  show  how  reluctantly  he  gave  up  hope, 
how  sadly  he  hoped  against  hope,  that  his  early  views  might 
yet  prove  true. 

It  was  whilst  he  was  in  this  critical  frame  of  mind,  that 
the  State  and  the  Establishment  combined  to  deal  the  final 
blow  to  his  expectation  of  Catholicising  his  fellow-countrymen 
by  means  of  the  Church  of  England.  Whilst  he  had  spent 
years  and  labour  untold  in  an  endeavour  to  prove  that  she 
was  Catholic,  and  had  succeeded  in  persuading  many,  and 


during  his  life  in  the  Snglish  Church.  101 

in  half  persuading  himself,  that  he  was  right,  the  body  he 
was  experimenting  upon  suddenly  awoke,  by  a  slight  effort 
righted  herself,  and  by  one  act  reasserted,  in  an  unmistakable 
manner,  the  essentially  Protestant  nature  of  her  character 
which  the  Tractarians  had  had  the  temerity  to  assail.  This 
act  was  the  appointment  of  an  Anglican  bishop  to  the  See 
of  Jerusalem,  there  to  fraternize  with  Monophysites  and 
Lutherans,  Sabellians  and  Calvinists,  and  any  other  form  of 
heresy,  ancient  or  modern,  which  he  might  find  on  the 
spot. 

As  might  be  expected,  this  act  wounded  Newman  deeply. 
Regarding  it  he  writes  in  the  Apologia  :■ — 

"  Looking  back  two  years  afterwards  on  the  above-mentioned 
and  other  acts  on  the  part  of  Anglican  ecclesiastical  authorities, 
I  observed  :  *  Many  a  man  might  have  held  an  abstract  theory 
about  the  Catholic  Church,  to  which  it  was  difficult  to  adjust  the 
Anglican ;  might  have  admitted  a  suspicion,  or  even  painful  doubts 
about  the  latter,  yet  never  have  been  impelled  onwards,  had  our 
rulers  preserved  the  quiescence  of  former  years ;  but,  it  is  the 
corroboration  of  a  present,  living,  and  energetic  heterodoxy,  that 
realizes  and  makes  such  doubts  practical ;  it  has  been  the  recent 
speeches  and  acts  of  authorities,  who  had  so  long  been  tolerant 
of  Protestant  error,  which  has  given  to  inquiry  and  theory  its 
force  and  edge." 

At  the  time  he  writes  : — 

"  It  really  does  seem  as  if  the  bishops  were  doing  their  best  to 
un-Catholicise  us;  [and  again],  it  cannot  be  denied  that  a  great 
and  anxious  experimeiit  is  going  on,  whether  our  Church  be,  or  be 
not,  Catholic  ;  the  issue  may  not  be  in  our  day.  But  1  must  be 
plain  in  saying,  that  if  it  does  issue  in  Protestantism,  I  shall  think 
it  my  duty  to  leave  it." 

We  see  from  such  words  as  these,  how  far  even  yet 
Newman  was  from  realizing  the  nature  of  the  faith  which  a 
Catholic  places  in  his  Church,  a  failing  we  may  observe 
which  is  all  but  general  with  Anglicans.  Catholic  doctrines 
they  can  and  often  do  accept  one  by  one,  and  independently 
of  each  other ;  not,  however,  on  the  ground  that  they  are 
taught  by  the  Church,  but  either  because  they  can  be  proved 
from  Scripture,  or  that  they  are  in  harmony  with  their  early 
teaching,  or  attracted  by  their  intrinsic  beauty.     But,  should 


708    Letters  and  Correspondence  of  John  Henry  Newman, 

such  men  be  confronted  by  a  doctrine  resting  on  the 
same  authority,  but  which  repels  instead  of  commending 
itself  to  them,  we  at  once  discover  the  foundation  on  which 
their  imposing  so-called  Catholic  edifice  has  been  built. 
They  not  only  oppose  it  resolutely,  but  they  seem  even 
unable  to  understand  how  a  Catholic  finds  no  difficulty  in 
submitting  his  own  opinion  to  that  of  the  Church  when  and 
in  whatsoever  way  she  may  ask  it  of  him. 

Although  his  visits  to  Littlemore  were  now  so  lengthy  as 
to  form  almost  a  continuous  residence  there,  it  was  not  till 
February,  1842,  that  Newman  retired  there  for  good,  and  in 
the  following  year  he  ceased  to  preach  at  St.  Mary's,  Oxford, 
and  indeed  soon  after  to  preach  in  the  Establishment  at  all. 
In  August,  1843,  Father  Lockhart,  who  at  that  time  was 
one  of  the  brotherhood  at  Littlemore,  was  received  into  the 
Church,  an  occurrence  by  w^hich  Newman  feels  to  so  great 
an  extent  compromised  that  he  allowed  it  to  fix  the  date  of 
his  resigning  the  living  of  St.  Mary's.  In  writing  to  his 
sister,  touching  this  step  he  says  : — 

"  I  am  not  so  zealous  a  defender  of  the  established  and 
existing  system  of  religion  as  I  ought  to  be  for  such  a  post ;  [and  a 
few  days  later  he  adds],  the  truth,  then,  is,  I  am  not  a  good  son 
enough  of  the  Church  of  England  to  feel  that  I  can  in  conscience 
hold  preferment  under  her.  I  love  the  Church  of  Kome  too 
well." 

The  period,  from  September  17th  to  25th,  1843,  is, 
perhaps,  the  most  eventful  in  Newman's  life,  if  we 
except  the  one  of  his  reception,  in  October,  1845.  On  the 
]7th  he  preached  at  St.  Mary's,  a  sermon  which  was 
followed  by  a  sleepless  night,  and  a  journey  to  London, 
where  he  went  through  the  legal  preliminaries  necessary  for 
resigning  his  living.  He  preached,  however,  once  more  in 
the  University  pulpit  on  the  24th.  The  25th  was  spent  at 
Littlemore,  and  on  that  day,  for  the  last  time,  his  voice 
was  heard  in  an  Anglican  Church,  speaking  those  touching 
words  on  the  "  parting  of  friends,"  which  few,  even  amongst 
those  who  best  know  and  can  realize  how  great  has  been  his 
gain,  how  speedily  his  tears  were  turned  into  joy,  can  read 
unmoved.    To  those  who,  alas,  refused  to  follow,  from  whom 


during  his  life  iri  the  English  Church.  709 

the  parting  and  severance  were  complete,  and  with  whom  he 
was  never  again  united  in  a  common  faith,  their  miquahfied 
sadness  must  be  extreme.  As  one  who  can  remember  those 
days,  writes,  on  no  longer  hearing  Newman's  voice  in 
Oxford : — 

*'  On  these  things,  looking  over  an  interval  of  five-and-twenty 
years,  how  vividly  comes  back  the  remembrance  of  the  aching 
blank,  the  awful  pause  which  fell  on  Oxford,  when  that  voice  had 
ceased,  and  we  knew  we  should  hear  it  no  more.  It  was  as  when, 
to  one  kneeling  by  night,  in  the  silence  of  some  vast  cathedral, 
the  great  bell  tolling  solemnly  overhead  has  suddenly  gone 
still.  .  .  Since  then  many  voices  of  powerful  teachers  may 
have  been  heard,  but  none  that  ever  penetrated  the  soul  like  his." 

Even  now,  however,  Newsman  can  announce  no  definite 
intention  of  joining  the  Church ;  only  he  says :  *'  I  do   so 
despair  of  the  Church  of  England  .    .    .  and  I  am  so  drawn 
to  the  Church  of  Eome,  that  I  think  it  safei'.  as  a  matter  of 
honesty,  not  to  keep  my  living."     The  end,  however,  is  fast 
approaching.      Study  had   convinced   his  intellect ;   all  the 
action  of  his   own    Church   had   been    disquieting ;  the  full 
conviction  that  it  would  be  at   the   risk   of  his  soul  if  he 
remained  stationary  was  overwhelming.    Such  considerations 
as  these  were  sufhciently  powerful  to  withstand  even  the 
affectionate  and  tender  pleadings  of  his  sisters  and  friends 
not  thus  to  desert  them.     No  more  touching  letter  exists  in 
our  language  than  that  which  Newman  wrote,  in  answer  to 
his  sister's  remonstrance,  on  March  15, 1845.  Unfortunately, 
it  is  too  long  to  quote.     Indeed,  the  sense  all  these  latter 
letters  give  us  is  one  of  an  unnecessarily  lengthened  pain  ; 
they  represent   a  long   and   sorrowfully-drawn-out  parting. 
We  feel  as  if  we  were  witnessing  a  scene,  which,  although 
all  concerned  dread  its  ending,  those  looking  on  can  but 
wish  to  hasten.    We  might  thus  watch  the  leave-takings  of  a 
party  of  emigrants  on    board   a   ship.      The   sound   of  the 
warning  bell  is  dreaded  by  all ;  yet,  an  undue  delay  is  but 
the   lengthening   of    the    most    distressing    of    all    human 
emotions.     With  Newman,  the  delay  extends  over  months 
and  years,  and  we  can  imagine  that  at  last  even  his  Anglican 
friends  must  have  welcomed  his  action.     In  tbe  end,  it  came 


710  History  of  the  Ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass. 

abruptly  in  a  note  to  his  sister.  ''  This  night  Father 
Dominic,  the  Passionist,  sleeps  here.  He  does  not  know  of 
my  intention ;  but  I  shall  ask  him  to  receive  me  into  what 
I  believe  to  be  '  the  one  Fold  of  the  Redeemer.'"  Thus  he 
died  to  his  past,  and  when  we  next  open  a  volume  of 
Newman's  letters,  they  will  tell  us  of  a  happy  resurrection, 
of  the  long  years  which  God  vouchsafed  to  grant,  and  in 
which  he  worked  in  His  Master's  vineyard,  happily  called 
thither  in  his  full  manhood  and  vigour,  both  of  intellect  and 
body,  and  long  years  before  even  the  eleventh  hour  had 
sounded. 

Cecil  Clayton. 


HISTORY  OF   THE   CEREMONIAL   OF   HOLY 
MASS.— II. 

THE  words  immediately  following  those  mentioned,  that  is 
to  say.  Per  ipsum,  et  cum  ipso,  et  in  ipso,  est  tihi  Deo 
Patri,  in  unitate  Spiritus  Sancti,  omnis  honor  et  gloria,  are, 
to  my  mind,  after  the  words  of  consecration,  the  most  solemn 
in  the  whole  service,  or  in  any  liturgy  or  office.  With  the 
priest  holding  the  sacred  species  in  his  hand,  and  making 
with  the  adorable  Host  the  venerable  sign  of  the  cross  over 
the  consecrated  cup,  I  cannot  conceive  anything  more 
solemn,  or  any  words  more  sublime.  They  seem  to  be  an 
epitome  of  all  worship  and  all  adoration.  What  a  treatise 
might  be  written  on  the  inner  meaning  of  these  w^ords  I 
And  how  much  would  it  not  reveal  to  us  of  that  hidden  life 
in  the  tabernacle  of  the  altar,  where  He  is  always  "  living  to 
make  intercession  for  us."  '' By  Him,  and  with  Him,  and 
in  Plim,  there  accrues  to  God  the  Father,  in  the  unity  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  all  honour  and  glory." 

The  introductory  prayer,  prefixed  to  the  Pater  Noster,h^Q 
been  of  the  greatest  antiquity ;  perhaps  as  old  as  the 
introduction  of  the  Pater  Noster  itself;  but  certainly  exist- 
ing at  the  time  of  St.  Gregory.     Of  the  Pater  Noster,  and  of 


History  of  the  Gere7nonial  of  Holy  Mass.  711 

the  fitness  of  its  insertion,  there  is  no  need  to  speak.  The 
only  prayer  remaining  to  us,  composed  by  our  divine  Lord 
Himself — if  any  prayer  of  man  might  be  intermingled  with 
the  sacred  mysteries,  surely  the  prayer  of  the  God-man 
might — and  that,  both  from  its  intrinsic  value,  as  v^ell  as 
from  the  sacredness  of  its  author.  Hence  it  is  as  old  as  the 
liturgy  itself;  and,  as  has  been  seen,  v^hatever  portions  in 
the  stress  of  penal  times  had  to  be  omitted,  it  never  was. 
Hence,  too,  in  the  service  of  the  pre-sanctified  on  Good 
Friday,  it  is  still  retained. 

The  Libera  nos,  following  the  Pater  Noster,  is  looked 
upon  as  an"  expansion  of  the  Sed  Libera  nos  a  malo  of  the 
Pater  Noster ;  its  introduction  is  of  uncertain  date;  but  it 
is  considered  to  be  very  ancient,  since  St.  Jerome  and 
St.  Cyprian  make  mention  of  it. 

Until  the  time  of  Pope  St.  Gregory,  the  breaking  of  the 
Host  and  the  prayer,  with  the  intermingling  v/ith  the 
chalice,  occupied  an  earlier  place  in  the  mass,  immediately 
after  the  canon.  From  the  revision  of  St.  Gregory,  the 
fraction  with  the  Pax  Domini  sit  semper  is  found  where 
it  stands  at  present,  together  with  the  accompanying 
ceremonies. 

The  triple  invocation  of  the  beautiful  prayer,  the  Agnus 
Dei,  dates  from  the  time  of  Pope  Sergius  I.,  about  680. 
Each  invocation  ended  alike  ;  until  in  times  of  trouble  in 
the  Church,  later  on,  as  Innocent  IH.  testifies,  the  ending 
dona  nobis  pacem  was  affixed  to  the  third.  The  suitability 
of  changing  miserere  nobis  into  dona  eis  requiem  of  the 
black  mass,  is  evident ;  but  under  what  circumstances,  or  at 
what  time,  the  change  took  place,  does  not  appear.  Nor, 
again,  is  it  well  known  when  or  why  the  first  of  the  three 
prayers  preceding  the  Domine  non  sum  dignus  has  been 
omitted  in  masses  for  the  dead.  These  three  prayers  are 
supposed  to  be  very  ancient ;  the  last  of  which,  on  account 
of  its  being  found  in  the  mass  of  Good  Friday,  and  because 
of  its  similarity  to  a  prayer  occupying  a  like  place  "in  almost 
all  the  oriental  liturgies,"  ^  is  supposed  to  be  by  far  the  most 

^  Dr.  Gasquet. 


712  History  of  the  Ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass. 

ancient.  They  were  not  generally  in  use  until  about  the 
time  of  Innocent  III.,  when  he  ordered  them  to  be  repeated 
as  now ;  and  about  the  same  time  the  pathetic  prayer  of  the 
centurion — Domine  non  sum  dignus,  came  to  be  inserted, 
i.e.,  towards  the  end  of  the  middle  ages. 

We  now  come  to  a  very  important  as  well  as  interesting 
ceremony — that,  namely,  of  administering  and  receiving  Holy 
Communion.  Our  mode,  at  present,  we  know.  The  com- 
municant, while  kneeling,  receives  the  sacred  particle  on  the 
tongue.  To  that  there  are  exceptions ;  if,  for  instance,  a 
person  is  sick,  the  person  receives  it  while  lying  in  bed.  If 
a  priest  receives,  modo  laico,  he  wears  a  stole  around  his 
neck. 

In  the  early  ages,  instead  of  kneeling,  the  faithful  were 
standing  while  receiving  the  Holy  Communion.  A  tradition 
was,  that  it  was  standing  the  Apostles  received  the  Holy 
Communion  at  the  Last  Supper ;  and  nowadays  no  one  but 
the  Pope  can  so  receive  it.  While  they  stood  they  rested 
the  back  of  the  right  hand  on  the  palm  of  the  left ;  and  in 
the  open  palm  of  the  right,  thus  supported,  they  received 
the  Sacred  Host.  Women  covered  their  right  hand  with  a 
veil  or  linen  cloth,  which  was  called  dominicale,  and  was 
something  akin  to  our  corporal. 

There  will  be  found  in  the  Koman  Breviary,  in  the  lessons 
within  the  octave  of  Corpus  Christi,  a  description  from  St. 
Ambrose,  of  the  ceremony  and  the  prayer  used  when  Holy 
Communion  was  being  administered  in  the  fourth  century. 
The  priest  presented  the  Sacred  Host,  and  said,  Corpus 
Domiui;  to  which  the  communicant  answered.  Amen.  The 
priest  presented  the  consecrated  cup,  and  said.  Sanguis 
Christi;  and  the  recipient  again  answered,  Amen. 

St.  Cyril  of  Jerusalem  says  : — "  The  faithful,  making  the 
left  hand  a  throne  for  the  right,  which  is  about  to  receive  the 
King,  and  hollowing  the  palm,  receive  the  Body  of  Christ, 
while  answering  the  Amen.'' 

"  The  piety  of  the  faithful  [says  Dr.  Gasquet]  led  to  various 
devout  practices,  such  as  applying  the  Sacred  Host  to  their  eyes 
before  receiving,  and  signing  their  lips  with  the  sign  of  the  cross 
jiilii^ediatel^  after  taking  t^e  Precious   Blood — practices  which 


i 


History  of  the  Ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass.  713 

were  commended  by  the  Greek  Fathers  from  Origen  to  Theodoret. 
but  which  were  liable  to  abuses  that  led  to  their  prohibition  in  the 
West."     (Dub.  Bev.,  Oct.,  1890.) 

''As  the  communion  of  a  whole  congregation  [says  the  author 
of  the  Explanation  of  the  Liturgy  of  the  Mass^  took  up  a  consider- 
able time,  appropriate  psalms  or  canticles  were  sung  in  the  intervals. 
The  banquets  of  kings,  and  of  the  great  ones  of  the  earth,  are 
always  accompanied  with  singing  and  music  ;  in  like  manner,  the 
Christian  temples  resound  with  melodious  accents  during  this 
sacred  feast,  to  which  God,  as  the  Host,  the  Food,  and  the  Guest, 
invited  His  children."     (Page  302.) 

Nov^  it  must  be  remembered  that  all  who  assisted  at  the 
Holy  Sacrifice  in  early  times,  also  received  the  Holy  Com- 
munion ;  and  that,  furthermore,  every  day  was  a  day  of 
special  devotion  to  them  ;  so  that  we  can  understand  how 
lovingly  saints  looked  back  upon 

"  That  early  Church,  whose  anthemed  rites 
Made  earth  like  heaven.     Her  nights 
Glorious  and  blest  as  day,  with  festive  lights !  "^ 

In  the  Eastern  Church,  the  psalm  sung  was  the  forty- 
first,  which  begins  so  beautifully  and  (for  the  occasion)  so 
appropriately :  "As  the  hart  panteth  after  the  fountains  of 
water,  so  panteth  my  soul  after  Thee,  0  God."  In  the 
Western,  it  was  the  thirty-third  :  "  I  v/ill  bless  the  Lord  at 
all  times  ;  His  praise  shall  ever  be  in  my  mouth.  .  .  . 
Taste  and  see  that  the  Lord  is  sweet."  Possibly  this 
communion-psalm  had  its  origin  in  what  the  Evangelists 
St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark  relate  of  our  Blessed  Lord:  "And 
when  they  had  sung  a  hymn  they  went  out  unto  Mount 
Olivet."  On  this  Dr.  McCarthy,  in  his  comment  on  St. 
Matthew,  says  : — 

"  Christ  and  His  diciples  joined  in  the  song  of  praise.  Ten 
psalms  begin  with  the  word  Halleluia  ;  six  of  which  (xcii.-xcvii.) 
formed  the  great  song  of  praise  (Hallel).  Two  of  these,  xcii.  (Laud- 
ate  Pueri)  and  xciii.  (Li  Exitu  Israel),  were  usually  chanted  before, 
and  the  remaining  four  immediately  after,  the  Paschal  Supper. 
We  have  no  evidence  that  these  psalms  formed  the  Hymn  on  the 
present  occasion  ;  but  it  is  likely  that  our  Lord  and  His  disciples 
conformed  to  the  old  and  sacred  usage." 

^  Mr.  A.  de  Yere. 


714  History  of  the  Ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass. 

The  remains  of  the  communion-psalm  of  the  early  ages 
are  found  in  the  anthem  which  the  priest  reads  after  the 
reception  or  distribution  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  and 
which,  taken  generally  from  the  Psalms  or  the  Gospels,  is 
called  the  Communion  in  the  missal.  It  varies  daily  ;  but, 
as  need  hardly  be  said,  it  is  always  appropriate  to  the  spirit 
of  the  feast.  It  most  probably  assumed  its  shape,  like  the 
Introit  and  Gradual  and  the  Offertory,  when  private  masses 
took  the  place  of  the  solemn  choral  masses. 

The  Post-Communion  is  of  the  same  date  as  the  collects 
and  secrets.  Neither  the  Communion  nor  the  Post-Com- 
munion is  found  in  the  Good  Friday  service. 

The  Benedictio  seems  to  be  a  most  natural  conclusion, 
and  consequently  is  looked  upon  as  dating  from  a  very  early 
period. 

The  Gospel  of  St.  John  was  used  very  generally  in 
mediaeval  times ;  but  it  was  only  after  the  Council  of  Trent 
that  it  was  placed  as  at  present. 

The  Be  Profunclis  is  a  peculiar  and  special  prayer  with 
the  Irish  Church.  A  learned  writer  in  a  recent  number  of 
the  I.  E.  Eecord  thus  speaks  of  the  introduction  of  the 
Psalm  : — 

'*  About  the  origin  of  the  custom  (of  reciting  the  Be  Profunclis 
immediately  after  the  last  Gospel)  there  is  much  disagreement 
among  archaeologists,  but  all  are  agreed  as  to  its  antiquity.  Some 
say  it  was  introduced  as  some  compensation  for  the  innumerable 
"foundation  masses"  for  deceased  persons,  the  celebration  of 
which  was  rendered  impossible  by  the  plunderings  and  persecu- 
tions of  the  so-called  Eeformers.  Others,  again,  say  that  this 
custom  dates  from  the  time  of  Cromwell,  and  was  intended  to 
supply  the  place  of  the  burial  service,  of  which  so  many  of  the 
pious  Ohver's  victims  were  deprived.  The  defenders  of  each 
opinion  say  that  a  rescript  from  Eome,  approving  of  the  practice, 
was  early  obtained,  and  one  writer  whom  we  have  seen  quoted, 
declared  that  he  had  seen  a  copy  of  this  rescript."  (I.  E.  Record, 
November,  1890,  page  1044.) 

The  suggestion  will  be  pardoned,  that  it  were  well  if 
those  who  have  an  opportunity  of  consulting  the  archives 
in  Rome,  or  in  whatever  quarters  could  throw  light  on  the 
matter,   would   examine    into  it,     It    interests    the    Ipsli 


History  of  the  Ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass.  715 

Church  closely,  since  it  is  peculiar  to  it,  and  also  those 
national  Churches  into  which,  from  the  missionary  inter- 
course of  Irish  priests,  it  may  have  got  introduced. 
Naturally,  as  the  writer  says,  one  comes  to  the  conclusion, 
from  the  aniversality  of  the  custom,  that  it  must  have  been 
ordered,  or  at  least  sanctioned,  by  ecclesiastical  authority. 
Father  O'Loan  gives  the  alternative  suppositions  suggested 
for  its  introduction ;  perhaps  he  would  be  induced  to  con- 
tinue his  researches  on  the  matter ;  it  would  be  conferring 
a  national  benefit.  One  can  hardly  doubt  but  some  notice 
or  allusion  must  exist  concerning  it ;  especially  as  its  intro- 
duction was,  relatively,  so  recent  as  the  Penal  times.  When 
the  reverend  professor  says  that  "  all  are  agreed  as  to  its 
antiquity  J'  he  does  not  mean  antiquity  in  the  same  sense 
that  this  article  has  been  using  the  word,  i.e.,  equivalent 
to  early  Christian  days,  but  that  the  custom  is  not  of  the 
present  century  or  the  last. 

To  sum  up  then :  there  are  four  great  rites  or  liturgies  : — 

1.  The  Syrian  (Eastern  and  Western)  :  the  present  ^7-w6- 
nian  rite  is  descended  from  the  Western,  ^  and  the  sect 
of  the  Nestorians  are  the  only  persons  now  using  the  East 
Syrian  liturgy. 

2.  Hhe  Alexandrian  rite  :  this  remained  after  the  Council 
of  Chalcedon  as  the  special  property  of  the  monophy sites. 
The  Evangelist,  St.  Mark,  was  the  author  of  this  liturgy, 
which  was  used  by  the  African  Church  and  the  Fathers  of 
the  Desert  long  before  it  became  the  exclusive  property  of 
the  Monophy  sites. 

3.  The  Hispano-Gallic ,  or  Mozarahic  :  the  origin  of  this 
is  a  crux  to  archaeologists.  As  its  name  implies,  it  was  used 
in  Spain  and  in  Gaul,  though  generally  supposed  to  be  of 
eastern  birth.  It  is  used  now  only  in  one  place,  in  Toledo 
in  Spain ;  and  was  allowed  in  the  time  of  Pope  Pius  V.  to 
be  continued  as  a  distinct  rite  through  the  influence  and 
energy  of  the  famous  Franciscan,  Cardinal  Ximenes. 

4.  The  Boman,  the  universal  liturgy  of  all  the  Western 


^  Th-;  liturcfy  of  St.  Chrysostom  derived  from  this  is  the  usual  mass 
of  the  G>'^ek  Church. 


716  History  of  the  Ceremonial  of  Holy  Mass. 

Church.  Even  among  those  who  follow  the  Eoman  rite, 
there  are  some  differences  ;  as,  for  instance,  in  the  Dominican 
mass.  It  is  said,  that  the  present  missal  and  the  present 
breviary,  at  the  time  of  the  reformation  of  both,  were  largely 
founded  on  the  missal  and  breviary  that  were  then  used 
among  the  children  of  St.  Francis. 

On  collating  these  different  rites,  it  is  found  that  the 
further  back  one  proceeds,  the  closer  the  manuscript  litur- 
gies describing  these  rites  incline.  From  this  it  is  deduced, 
that  they  must  originally  have  sprung  from  a  common 
source  ;  and  that  source  can  be  no  other  than  the  Apostles. 
It  is  believed,  that  for  some  time  after  the  foundation  of 
Christianity,  the  liturgy  of  the  Church  was  simply  by  word 
of  mouth.  In  that  case,  it  is  fair  to  conclude,  that  the 
ceremonial  could  not  have  been  long.  The  gravest  reason 
offered  for  this'discipline  is  the  desire  to  observe  the  secret 
of  the  Holy  Sacrifice  inviolable,  and  the  danger  of  books 
falling  into  the  hands  of  the  uninitiated. 

"  We  may  then  safely  assume,"  says  Dr.  Gasquet,  "  that 
the  main  substance  of  the  liturgy  was  delivered  orally  by 
the  Apostles  to  their  disciples ;  though  .  .  .  it  is  clear 
that  definite  liturgical  formulae  existed  in  the  second 
century."— (Du6.  Bev.,  April,  1890.) 

Thus,  then,  the  sacred  liturgy  of  holy  mass  descended 
from  our  divine  Lord  to  His  Apostles  ;  from  the  Apostles 
orally  to  their  immediate  followers.  Being  orally  handed 
down,  it  necessarily  varied  somew^hat  in  detail ;  the  East 
following  St.  James;  Africa  following  St.  Mark;  Kome  the 
head  of  the  Apostles;  and  Lyons  and  Marseilles  receiving 
from  Asia  Minor  (as  is  suggested)  the  foundation  of  the 
Hispano-Gallic  Rite. 

As  has  been  said,  the  Good  Friday  service  will  be  a  good 
guide  (indeed  the  best  we  have)  to  the  rites  of  the  early 
Church.  What  the  ceremonial  reached  at  the  time  of 
St.  Gregory  is  summed  up  in  one  or  tw^o  sentences  by 
Dr.  Gasquet,  in  his  scholarly  and  highly  interesting  papers 
in  the  Dublin  Bevieiv  : — 

"A  psalm,  or  part  of  one  [he  says],  was  sung  by  the  choir 
on  the  entrance  of  the  celebrant,  who  then  said  the  collect.    The 


What  do  the  Irish  Biiig  ?  Ill 

Epistle  followed,  separated  from  the  Gospel  by  a  psalm,  repre- 
sented by  our  Gradual  or  Tract ;  and  after  the  Gospel  came  the 
sermon,  and  the  withdrawal  of  those  who  had  no  right  to  assist 
at  the  Holy  Sacrifice.  The  choir  sung  a  psalm,  while  the  faithful 
brought  their  offering,  the  celebrant  making  the  oblation  in 
silence,  and  ending  with  the  secret.  Then,  came  the  Preface  and 
Canon,  as  at  present,  followed  by  the  Lord's  Prayer,  the  fraction, 
and  the  kiss  of  peace.  The  celebrant  and  faithful  then  received 
Communion,  a  psalm  being  sung  meanwhile ;  and  the  mass  was 
concluded  by  a  variable  Post-Communion  and  a  Benedictio  super 
populum."     (x\pril,  1890.) 

K.  O'Kennedy. 


WHAT  DO  THE  IRISH  SING? 

'^  rriRASH,  mostly,  and  treason,"  will  be  many  an  English- 
X  man's,  and,  for  the  matter  of  that,  many  an 
Irishman's,  reply.  Not  so,  perhaps,  if  he  has  had  the  fortmie 
of  reading,  in  The  Nineteenth  Century,  of  some  years  ago.  Sir 
J.  Pope  Hennessy's  answer  to  the  question,  ''  What  do  the 
Irish  Eead?"  This  distinguished  Irishman  has,  in  his 
article,  printed,  perhaps,  a  little  treason  ;  but  no  trash,  as  all 
must  confess,  save  those  who  are  judges  neither  of  trash  nor 
treason.  I  hope  many  Englishmen,  and  many  of  ray  own 
countrymen  who  have  shared  with  me  the  disadvantages  of 
an  education  in  England,  have  read  that  admirable  article, 
and  have  laid  to  heart  its  lesson — a  very  serious  one.  I  may 
be  pardoned,  since  it  is  very  much  to  my  purpose,  if  I  give  the 
following  extract.      A  Munster  parish  priest  is  speaking  : — 

*'  If  you  go  by  the  test  of  literary  taste  and  knowledge,  those 
working-men  of  the  country  reading-rooms,  and  those  shopboys 
and  clerks  of  the  city,  are  no  longer  the  lower  classes.  The  young 
gentlemen  educated  at  Oscott  or  Stonyhurst — sons  of  pious  fathers 
and  mothers — young  gentlemen  who  may  be  seen  in  the  smoking- 
room  of  the  Munster  Club,  or  at  the  races,  or  emulating  the  style 
of  some  of  the  military  mashers — these  are  not  now-a-days,  from 
a  literary  point  of  view,  our  upper  or  middle-class  youth." 

Then  follows  a  long  list  of  the  books  now  most  popular  in  the 
reading-rooms,  comprising  the  works — mostly  historical  and 
biographical — of  MacGeoghegan,  M'Gee,  Duffy,  Macaulay, 


718  What  do  the  Irish  Sing  / 

Justin  M'Carthy,  Lecky,  Mitchel,  Sullivan,  Maguire,  and 
so  forth.  A  contrast,  this,  to  the  "mashers'"  list,  where 
Ouida,  Zola,  and,  rubesco  ref evens,  George  Moore,  bear  away 
their  unblushing  honours.  But  it  is  not  of  Irish  reading 
that  I  wish  to  treat  in  this  article,  but  of  Irish  singing.  We 
have  been  always  allowed  the  credit  of  being  musical.  If  it 
were  asked  on  what  grounds  this  credit  rested,  the  answer 
would  probably  be — *'  Oh,  the  Irish  melodies — Moore's 
melodies  ;  they  are  enough  for  any  nation  to  be*  proud  of. 
Of  course,  the  Irish  are  musical."  Well,  we  do  not  disclaim 
Moore's  melodies.  They  are — both  the  words  of  the  modern 
poet,  and  the  ancient  airs  which  those  words  have  at  once 
enfeebled  and  immortalized — a  collection  of  national  lyrics 
which  we  challenge  the  world  to  equal.  But  they  are 
not  the  songs  of  which  Irishmen  are  proudest  or  fondest. 
They  are  not  the  songs  that  are  oftenest  sung  by  the  people. 
A  few  of  them  are  truly  and  deservedly  popular ;  but 
by  far  the  greater  number  of  them  are  already  forgotten 
as  songs,  and  survive  only  as  lyrics.  The  truth  is,  they  were 
never  racy  of  Irish  soil.  Some  of  them,  indeed,  will  make 
the  Irish  heart  beat  fast  to  the  end  of  time ;  but  most  of  them 
live  only  as  sweet  ballads — matchless  in  fancy  and  felicitous 
expression,  but  wanting,  as  their  author  was,  in  that  honest 
fire  and  truth  and  courage  that  alone  can  lastingly  move  a 
nation's  heart.  Irish  Zz^^eraiew7*s  will  ever  praise  them;  but 
Irish  voices  will  choose,  and  have  already  chosen,  the  songs 
of  better,  if  not  more  gifted,  men.  Moore  himself,  in  lines 
themselves  most  touching,  and  wedded  to  an  air  perhaps  the 
sweetest  of  all  the  Irish  melodies,  has  told  us  the  secret  of 
his  charm  and  of  his  failure.  "  Dear  Harp  of  my  Country  " 
is  his  tender  good-bye  to  the  work  of  fitting  words  to 
Irish  music.  Apostrophizing  his  "  own  Island  Harp,"  he 
sings : — 

"  The  warm  lay  of  love,  and  the  light  note  of  gladness 
Have  wakened  thy  fondest,  thy  liveliest  thrill ; 
But  so  oft  hast  thou  echoed  the  deep  sigh  of  sadness, 
That  even  in  thy  mirth  it  will  steal  from  thee  still." 

That  sadness  of  Moore's  was  the  sadness  of  despair.  In  the 
inner  life   of  Ireland  "  the   sweetest  lyrist  of  her   saddest 


What  do  the  Irish  Sing  /  719 

wrong  "  took  little  interest.  True,  he  had  written — in  his 
"  mirth,"  we  may  suppose — those  prophetic  words,  so  often 
fondly  repeated  in  Ireland  : — 

"The  nations  have  fallen,  and  thou  still  art  young ; 
Thy  sun  is  but  rising,  when  others  are  set  : 
And  though  slavery's  cloud  o'er  thy  morning  hath  hung, 

The  full  noon  of  freedom  shall  beam  round  thee  yet. 
Erin,  0  Erin  !  though  long  in  the  shade, 
Thy  star  will  shine  out  when  the  proudest  shall  fade." 

But  the  first  glimmerings  of  that  light  appalled  the  snugly- 
nested  singer,  and,  instead  of  greeting  it  with  a  paean,  he 
lamented  it  in  a  dirge  : — 

"  Tis  gone,  and  for  ever,  the  light  we  saw  breaking, 

Like  heaven's  first  dawn  o'er  the  sleep  of  the  dead — 
When  man,  from  the  slumber  of  ages  awaking. 

Looked  upward,  and  blessed  the  pure  ray  ere  it  fled. 
'Tis  gone,  and  the  gleams  it  has  left  of  its  burning 

But  deepen  the  long  night  of  sorrow  and  mourning 
That  dark  o*er  the  kingdoms  of  earth  is  returning, 

And  darkest  of  all,  hapless  Erin,  o'er  thee." 

Such  unhealthy  hopelessness,  even  thus  exquisitely  sung, 
could  not  stand  against  the  young,  fresh  voices  that  were  then 
proclaiming  Ireland's  second  spring.  Sad  for  the  past — 
those  voices  would  not  have  been  Irish  if  that  minor  strain 
had  not  been  in  them — they  were  ever  full  of  courage  and 
glad  anticipation  for  their  country's  future.  From  end  to 
end  of  Ireland,  to  this  day,  are  heard  the  songs  which,  more 
than  speech  or  manifesto,  roused  the  people  to  that  self- 
reliance  and  trust  in  the  final  prevalence  of  justice,  which 
brought  the  nation  safe  through  the  darkest  hour  of  her  history. 
Tom  Davis's  lines  were,  indeed,  the  voice  of  the  nation. 
Never  was  there  a  tenderer  muse  than  his  ;  but  never,  when 
he  wrote  of  Ireland's  future,  was  there  a  bolder  : — 

"  Let  the  feeble-hearted  pine, 
Let  the  sickly  spirit  whine, 
But  to  work  and  win  be  thine, 

While  you've  life. 
God  smiles  upon  the  bold  ; 
So,  when  your  flag's  unrolled, 
Bear  it  bravely  till  you're  cold 

In  the  strife." 


120  What  do  the  Irish  Sing  ? 

Lines  like  the  following  were  not  without  their  effect : — 

*'  Let  the  coward  shrink  aside, 

We'll  have  our  own  again  ; 
Let  the  brawling  knave  deride, 

Here's  for  our  own  again  ! 
Let  the  tyrant  bribe  and  lie, 
March,  threaten,  fortify. 
Loose  his  lawyer  and  his  spy, 

Yet  we'll  have  our  own  again." 

I  do  not  know  a  more  popular  or  a  more  pathetic  ballad  than 
Davis's  "  Annie  Dear  " — a  mournful  love  song  up  to  the  very 
last  verse,  when  the  rebel  lover  passionately  weeps  his  double 
bereavement — of  wife  and  country  : — 

"  Far  better  by  thee  lying. 
Their  bayonets  defying. 
Than  live  an  exile,  sighing 
Annie,  dear!  " 

But  there  are  other  songs  as  popular  as  any  by  Davis, 
which  were  written  in  the  days  when  the  cause  of  Irish 
nationality  was  supported  by  the  most  gifted  and  pure- 
souled  of  Irish  thinkers,  and  which  are  sung  now  by  those 
who  still  stand  by  that  cause.  ''Sliabh  Cuilinn"  was  the 
signatory  to  some  of  the  most  stirring  of  all  the  '48  songs, 
as  they  are  called.  He  died  recently,  after  having  held  the 
exalted  position  of  Judge ;  but  we  may  safely  say  that  his 
countrymen  will  remember  "  Sliabh  Cuilinn"  when  the 
honest  Judge  and  refined  man  of  letters  is  forgotten.  The 
song,  "Ourselves  Alone,"  sounds  much  more  like  that  of  a 
Land  Leaguer  than  of  a  Judge  of  the  Land  Court : — 

**  Eemember,  when  our  lot  was  worse — 

Sunk,  trampled  to  the  dust ; 
'Twas  long  our  weakness  and  our  curse, 

In  stranger  aid  to  trust. 
And  if,  at  length,  we  proudly  trod 

On  bigot  laws  o'erthrown, 
Who  won  the  struggle  ?     Under  God, 

Ourselves — Ourselves  Alone." 

In  the  troubled  days  of  Fenianism,  a  poor  peasant  was 
brought   before    a   County   Court   Judge  in   the  North   of 


What  do  the  Irish  Bing  ?  721 

Ireland,  to  answer  to  the  charge  of  singing  a  seditious  song. 
The  song  was  read  in  court.    Its  strongest  verse  ran  thus  ; — 

"  My  boyish  ear  still  clung  to  hear 

Of  Erin's  pride  of  yore, 
Ere  Norman  foot  had  dared  pollute 

Her  independent  shore  : 
Of  chiefs,  long  dead,  who  rose  to  head 

Some  gallant  patriot  few. 
Till  all  my  aim  on  earth  became 

To  strike  one  blow  for  you, 
Dear  Land — 

To  strike  one  blow  for  you." 

It  was  Sliabh  Cuilinn's  song  of  Young  Ireland  days  that 
the  prisoner  had  sung.  But  why  does  the  Judge's  kindly 
voice  falter  in  passing  sentence  ?  Can  he  be  the  writer  ? 
Ah,  my  Lord, 

*•  Tempora  mutantur  et  nos  mutamur  in  illis  ! ' ' 

I  have  heard  that,  though  the  sedition  was  held  proved,  the 
poor  singer  went  free ;  for  the  Judge,  men  say,  was  himself 
scarcely  penitent,  and  his  heart  remained  what  it  always  was. 

No  rebel  song  ever  had  such  a  success  in  Ireland  as 
Ingram's  famous  ballad  "  Who  Fears  to  Speak  of  Ninety- 
Eight  ?  "  The  writer  holds  now  an  honoured  position  in 
Trinity  College,  Dublin,  an  institution  which,  in  spite  of 
extraordinarily  adverse  influences,  has  ever  been  the  nursery 
of  sturdy  and  intelligent  national  spirits.  There  is  scarcely 
a  social  board  in  Ireland  at  which  that  voice  from  "Old 
Trinity  "  has  not  been  heard ;  and  only  those  who  know  the 
power  of  such  a  song  in  Ireland  can  understand  the  strength 
of  this  single  link  between  the  Protestant  University  and  the 
hearts  of  the  Catholic  people.  There  is  a  hope — shall  I  call 
it  a  belief? — cherished  silently  in  Ireland,  that  a  day  of 
resurrection  is  not  far  off,  when  the  promise  of  such  songs 
will  be  realized,  and  when  it  will  appear  that  the  Irish  hearts 
that  beat  in  hostile  camps  were  never  really  far  apart,  never 
entirely  false  to  the  noble  stirrings  of  former,  happier  days. 

Fully  half  the  songs  that  the  Irish  sing  at  present  were 
written  in  the  days  of  the  Young  Ireland  party.  The.  larger 
movement  of  more  recent  times  has  not^been  without  its  lyric 
VOL.  XII.  '  2  z 


722  What  do  the  Irish  Sing  ? 

muse.  True,  there  was  something  too  coldly  practical  about 
the  land  agitation  to  give  much  inspiration  to  the  poet.  The 
one  great  song  that  became,  in  those  days,  the  national  song  of 
the  people  was  not  of  the  League.  "  God  Save  Ireland  " — 
T.  D.  Sullivan's  lyric  of  what  the  great  mass  of  his  country- 
men think  the  **  saddest  wrong  "  of  the  sad  Fenian  days — was 
the  simple  tale  of  the  execution  of  Allen,  Larkin,  and  O'Brien, 
in  Manchester,  on  November  23rd,  1867.  The  air  was  an 
American  one,  and  had  become  popular  in  London.  I 
remember  well  the  amused  contempt  with  which  the  singing 
of  this  song  was  met  by  an  English  friend,  who  at  once 
chorused  it  with  the  latest  music-hall  refrain.  But  there  is 
a  proud  ring  in  the  air,  which  fits  perfectly  the  indignation 
and  defiance  of  the  Irish  poet's  words,  and  which  made  those 
words  historical.  It  is  not  hard  to  understand  the  power  of 
such  a  verse  as  this  :  — 

'  *  Climbed  they  up  the  rugged  stair, 
Eung  their  voices  out  in  prayer  ; 
Then,  with  England's  fatal  cord  around  them  cast, 
Close  beneath  the  gallows  tree. 
Kissed  like  brothers  lovingly, 
True  to  Home  and  Faith  and  Freedom  to  the  last. 
*  God  save  Ireland,'  prayed  they  loudly  ; 
'  God  save  Ireland,'  said  they  all : 
'  Whether  on  the  scaffold  high 
Or  the  battlefield  we  die, 
Oh,  what  matter,  when  for  Erin  dear  we  fall ! '  " 

There  is  another  song,  still  often  heard  in  the  south,  that 
T.  D.  Sullivan  wrote  in  the  same  troubled  year.  A  grim 
humour  is  in  it  that  was  relished  at  that  time.  The  subject  was 
the  remarkable  influx  just  then  of  Americans,  and  the  name 
of  the  song  (no  one  could  claim  elegance  for  it)  was  "  Square- 
toed  Boots."  The  Government  had  threatened  to  arrest  the 
suspicious-looking  strangers  : — 

"  But  now  the  news  has  travelled  afar  across  the  sea. 
Old  Uncle  Sam  has  heard  it,  and  a  mighty  man  is  he  ; 
Through  all  his  huge  anatomy  a  thrill  of  anger  shoots, 
And  like  thunder  comes  the  stamping  of  his  square-toed  boots. 
And  Johnny  Bull  grows  fearful,  as  surely  well  he  may, 
When  up  that  giant  rises,  and  strides  across  his  way ; 
For  past  experience  whispers,  what  no  later  fact  refutes, 
That  there's  terrible  propulsion  in  his  square-toed  boots." 


What  do  the  Irish  Sing  /  723 

Such  lines  are,  perhaps,  not  pleasant  reading  ;  the  humour 
is  too  saturnine,  and  is  not  a  fair  specimen  of  the  writer's 
usual  kindly  vein.  I  remember  that  at  the  last  festive  gathering 
at  which  I  heard  that  song,  it  was  followed  by  one  that  has 
always  been  a  favourite,  written  by  the  same  author — 
"E.  C.  C,"  the  initials  of  ''Eoman  Catholic  Curate."  This 
is  a  verse : — 

'•  His  heart  is  near  the  people's  hearts, 
He  knows  their  wrongs,  he  feels  their  smarts, 
He  sees  the  tyrant's  cruel  arts, 
And  through  his  veins  each  outrage  darts. 

Oh  !  firm  and  true  as  steel  is  he, 

The  calm,  courageous E.  CO.! 

The  friend  of  truth  and  liberty, 

The  youthful  patriot  E.  C.  C.  !  " 

**  T.  D.,"  as  he  is  called  through  the  country,  was 
the  poet  of  the  League.  To  the  splendid  march  of  the 
Southern  army  he  set  the  now  well-known  words : — 

"  Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  for  home  and  liberty  ! 
Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  the  truth  shall  make  us  free  ! 
Eaise  it  on  your  banners,  boys,  for  all  the  world  to  see  — 
God  made  the  land  for  the  people  !  " 

Many  of  these  songs,  which,  from  the  pages  of  The  Nation, 
w^ere  copied  week  by  week  into  scores  of  papers  in  Ireland, 
America,  and  Australia,  and  sung  wherever  his  countrymen 
are  to  be  found,  were  written  in  the  House  of  Commons.  Mr. 
Sullivan,  elected  to  make  his  country's  laws,  and  doing  his 
part  therein  devotedly,  prefers  the  more  important  as  well  as 
more  congenial  task  of  making  her  ballads.  That  busy  pen 
would  be  watched  with  greater  interest  if  men  in  Westminster 
knew  that  it  writes  the  songs  of  a  people  whose  nature  it  is 
to  sing  when  they  are  most  in  earnest,  and  to  place,  as  in 
days  of  old,  the  national  poet  before  even  the  national 
soldier. 

The  ballad-singer  has  always  been  a  favourite  in  Ireland. 
No  fair  or  market,  no  race  meeting  or  political  meeting  is 
complete  without  him.  He  often  composes  the  song  he 
sings,  and  if  it  takes  the  fancy  of  his  hearers  he  rapidly  dis- 
poses of  the  slip  copies.     No  event  of  any  interest  passes 


724  What  do  the  Irish  Siiig  ? 

without  its  ballad;  no  hero  remains  unsung.  I  have  before 
me  a  rudely-printed  sheet  which  I  bought  in  the  street  of 
Thurles  one  spring  evening.  It  is  a  fair  specimen  of  the 
class.  A  coffin  appears  at  the  top  of  the  slip,  and  the  lines 
open  thus  : — 

'*  Once  more  this  week  does  Carey  wreak  his  vengeance  on  man- 
kind, 
And  once  again  we  see  with  pain  the  black  flag  in  the  wind ; 
Another  dupe  compelled  to  stoop  to  deeds  of  sin  and  shame  ! 
*  God  help  my  wife  and  family,  Dan  Curley  is  my  name. 
On  the  gallows  high  I'm  forced  to  die  and  leave  my  happy 

home, 
But  hope  to  meet  with  mercy  sweet  from  God  in  kingdom  come. 
Out  from  my  heart  ere  I  depart  there's  one  advice  I'm  giving. 
To  shun  unlawful  meetings,  and  to  trust  in  no  man  living.'  " 

The  ballad  ends  with  an  appeal  for  the  prayers  of  the 
hearers 

*' '  To  the  Lord  above,  that,  thro'  the  love  He  bears  for  all  mankind, 
He'll  pardon  me  on  the  gallows  tree,  and  that  I'll  mercy  find.'  " 

All  are  not  so  mild  as  that.  Though  often  coarse  in 
expression,  Irish  street  ballads  are,  thank  God,  singularly  pure, 
and  the  priest  generally  comes  to  hear  at  once  of  any  im- 
propriety, and  stops  the  danger  on  the  spot.  Treason  is,  of 
course,  plentifully  sung — if  that  can  be  called  treason  which 
is  simply  the  untutored  expression  of  passionate  loyalty  to 
the  old  country,  and  wholesale  defiance  of  her  foes.  I  re- 
member the  magistrates  of  a  town  in  the  county  of  Tipperary 
being  called  on  to  pass  judgment  on  two  boys  for  singing 
a  rebel  song,  from  which  I  cull  the  following  : — 

'•  Then  brighten  up  your  rifles,  boys. 

And  see  your  blades  are  keen, 
And  rally  in  your  thousands 

'Neath  our  own  immortal  green. 
Like  soldiers  of  true  freedom 

We'll  fight  for  liberty  ; 
And  with  flashing  blades  and  rifles,  boys. 

We'll  make  old  Ireland  free  ! " 

The  indictment  described  the  ballad  as  "  calculated  to  excite 
Her  Majesty's  subjects,  and  bring  the  Government  of  Ireland 


The  Blessed  Edmund  Campion's  ^^  History  of  Ireland,' \C'C.  725 

into  contempt  !  "  The  boys  were  rightly  scolded  for  singing 
this  "  obnoxious  production,"  which,  though  sung  in  South 
Tipperary,  came,  they  said,  from  Belfast. 

But  these  quotations  and  remarks  must  end.  If  the  sub- 
ject required  an  apology  I  could  find  one  in  the  fact  that  one 
good  song  in  Ireland  has  even  now  more  power  over  the  people 
than  a  dozen  speeches,  and  even  than  many  sermons ;  and  if 
it  is  objected  that  this  article,  as  a  whole,  is  not  comfortable 
reading  for  some  of  the  subscribers  to  the  I.  E.  Kecoed,  I 
answer  that  I  have  tried  to  put  before  them,  not  my  views, 
but  some  important  facts  indicative  of  the  sentiments  of  a 
people  with  whom  sentiment  is  paramount.  It  may  comfort 
some  to  know — what  the  songs  that  the  Irish  sing  sufficiently 
prove — that  the  prevailing  sentiment  in  Ireland  now  is  one 
of  self-reliance  and  hope. 

Aethur  Eyan. 


THE   BLESSED  EDMUND   CAMPION'S  "  HISTOEY 
OF  lEELAND  "  AND  ITS   CEITICS.— 11. 

A  EE  VIE  WEE  of  my  former  paper^  admits  that  I  have 
shown  "  that  Campion  had  an  eye  for  what  was  good  in 
the  Irish."  Consequently  I  have  proved  that  Keating's 
statements,  supra,  page  632,  are  without  foundation.  I  add 
more  evidence  of  Campion's  kindly  feelings. 

III.    THE    lEISH   PEOPLE. 

"  An  old  distinction  there  is  of  Ireland  into  Irish  and  English 
pales  ;  for  when  the  Irish  had  raised  continual  tumults  against 
the  English,  planted  here  with  the  conquest,  at  last  they  coursed 
them  into  a  narrow  circuit  of  certain  shires  in  Leinster,  which 
the  Enghsh  did  choose  as  the  fattest  soil,  most  defensible,  their 
proper  right,  and  most  open  to  receive  help  from  England. 
Hereupon  it  was  termed  their  Pale,  out  of  which  they  durst  not 
peep. 

"  The   language    is    sharp    and    sententious,  offereth    great 

1  In  The  National  Press,  July  9tli. 


726  The  Blessed  Edmu7id  Campion'' s 

occasion  to  quick  apophthegms  and  proper  allusions  ;  wherefore 
their  common  jesters,  bards,  and  rhymers  are  said  to  delight 
passingly  those  that  conceive  the  grace  and  propriety  of  the 
tongue.  But  the  true  Irish,  indeed,  difi'ereth  so  much  from  that 
they  commonly  speak,  that  scarce  one  among  five  score  can  either 
write,  read,  or  understand  it.  Therefore  it  is  prescribed  among 
certain  their  poets  and  other  students  of  antiquity. 

"The  people  are  thus  inclined:  religious,  frank,  morous, 
ireful,  suiferable  of  pains  infinite,  very  glorious,  excellent  horse- 
men, delighted  with  wars,  great  alms-givers,  passing  in  hospitality, 
where  they  fancy  and  favour  a  wonderful  kind.  .  .  Being  vir- 
tuously bred  up  or  reformed,  they  are  such  mirrors  of  holiness,  and 
austerity,  that  other  nations  retain  a  show  or  shadow  of  devotion 
in  comparison  of  them.  As  for  abstinence  and  fasting,  which 
these  days  make  so  dangerous,  this  is  to  them  a  familiar  kind  of 
chastisement,  in  which  virtue,  and  divers  others  how  far  the 
best  excel,  so  far  in  gluttony  and  other  hateful  crimes,  the  vicious 
they  are  worse  than  too  bad.  Greedy  of  praise  they  be,  and 
fearful  of  dishonour ;  and  to  this  end  they  esteem  their  poets, 
who  write  Irish  learnedly,  and  pen  their  sonnets  heroical,  for 
which  they  are  bountifully  rewarded.  But  if  they  send  out  libels 
in  dispraise  thereof,  the  gentlemen,  especially  the  mere  Irish, 
stand  in  great  awe.  They  love  tenderly  their  foster  children,  and 
bequeathe  to  them  a  child's  portion  ;  whereby  they  nourish  sure 
friendship,  so  beneficial  in  every  way,^  that  commonly  five  hundred 
kine  and  better  are  given  in  reward  to  win  a  nobleman's  child  to 
foster.  They  love  and  trust  their  foster-brethren  more  than  their 
own.  They  are  sharp-witted,  lovers  of  learning,  capable  of  any 
study  Vv'hereunto  they  bend  themselves,^  constant  in  travail, 
adventurous,  intractable,  kind-hearted,  secret  in  displeasure. 
Hitherto  the  Irish  of  both  sorts  (mere  and  English)  are  affected 
much  indifferently,  save  that  in  these,  by  good  order  and  breaking, 
the  virtues  are  far  more  frequent.  In  these  others  there  is  daily 
trial  of  good  natures  among  them,  how  soon  they  be  reclaimed, 
and  to  what  rare  gifts  of  grace  and  wisdom  they  do  and  have 
aspired. 

*'  Clear  men  they  ara  of  skin  and  hue  .  .  .  Their  women  are 
well-favoured,  clear-coloured,  fair-handed,  big  and  large,  suffered 
from  their  infancy  to  grow  at  will,  nothing  curious  of  their  feature 
and  proportion  of  body.  Their  infants  of  the  meaner  sort  are 
neither  swaddled  nor  lapped  in  linen,  but  folded  up  naked  into  a 
blanket  till  they  can  go.  Linen  shirts  the  rich  do  wear  for 
wantonness  and  bravery,  with  wide  hanging  sleeves  plaited  ; 
thirty  yards  are  little  enough  for  one  of  thein.  Proud  they 
are   of   long-crisped   glybbes,    and    do   nourish   the  same    with 

^  Spencer  denounces  this,  and  urges  its  suppression. 
'^  But  were  forbidden  by  law  to  learn. 


"  History  of  Ireland  "  and  its  Critics.  727 

all  their  cunning ;  to  crop  the  front  thereof  they  take  it 
for  a  notable  piece  of  villainy.  Where  they  fancy  and 
favour,  they  are  wonderful  kind;  they  exchange  by  commu- 
tation of  wares  for  the  most  part,  and  have  utterly  no  coin  stirring 
in  any  great  lords'  houses.  Some  of  them  be  richly  plaited ; 
their  ladies  are  trimmed  rather  with  massive  jewels  than  with 
garish  apparel ;  it  is  counted  a  beauty  in  them  to  be  tall,  round, 
and  fat. 

"  They  honour  devout  friars  and  pilgrims,  suffer  them  to  pass 
quietly,  spare  them  and  their  mansions,  whatsoever  outrage  they 
show  to  the  country  besides  them ;  for  the  Irish  are  in  no  way 
outrageous  against  holy  men.  '  I  remember,'  Oambrensis  writeth 
himself,  '  merrily  to  have  objected  to  Morris,  then  archbishop  of 
Cashel,  that  Ireland  in  so  many  hundred  years  hath  not  brought 
forth  one  martyr.  The  bishop  answered  pleasantly  ;  but,  alluding 
to  the  murder  of  Thomas  of  Canterbury,  '  our  people,'  quoth  he, 
'  notwithstanding  their  other  enormities,  yet  have  evermore  spared 
the  blood  of  saints ;  marry  now,  as  we  are  to  be  delivered  to  such 
a  nation  that  is  well  acquainted  with  making  martyrs ;  hence- 
forward, I  trust,  this  complaint  will  cease.' 

"As  to  the  Irish  saints,  though  my  search  thereof,  in  this  my 
haste  out  of  the  land,  be  very  cumbersome,  yet  being  loath  to 
neglect  the  memory  of  God's  friends,  more  glorious  to  a  realm 
than  all  the  victories  and  triumphs  of  the  world,  I  think  it  good 
to  furnish  out  this  chapter  with  some  extracts  touching  the  saints 
of  Ireland — namely,  those  that  are  most  notable,  mentioned  by 
authors  of  good  credit.     .     .     . 

*•  Without  either  precepts  or  observation  of  congruity  the 
Irish  speak  Latin  like  a  vulgar  language,  learned  in  their  common 
schools  of  leachcraft  and  law,  whereat  they  begin  children,  and 
hold  on  sixteen  or  twenty  years,  conning  by  rote  the  aphorisms 
of  Hypocrates  and  the  civil  institutions,  and  a  few  other  parings 
of  these  two  faculties.  I  have  seen  them,  where  they  kept 
school,  ten  in  some  one  chamber,  groveling  upon  couches  of 
straw,  their  books  at  their  noses,  themselves  lying  flat  prostrate, 
and  so  to  chant  out  their  lessons  by  peacemeal,  being  the  most 
part  lusty  fellows  of  twenty-five  years  and  upwards.     .     .     . 

"  Other  lawyers  they  have,  liable  to  certain  families,  who, 
after  the  custom  of  the  country,  determine  and  judge  causes. 
These  consider  of  wrongs  offered  and  received  among  their 
neighbours,  be  it  murder,  or  felony,  or  trespass  ;  all  is  redeemed 
by  composition  (except  the  grudge  of  parties  seek  revenge) ;  and 
the  time  they  have  to  spare  from  spoiling  and  proyning  they 
lightly  bestow  in  parleying  about  such  matters.  The  Breighoon 
(so  they  call  this  kind  of  lawyer)  sitteth  him  down  on  a  bank, 
the  lords  and  gentlemen  at  variance  round  about  him,  and  then 
they  proceed.  To  rob  and  prey  their  enemies  they  deem  it  no 
offence,  nor  seek  any  means  to  recover  their  loss,  but  even  to 


728  The  Blessed  Edmund  Campion's 

watch  them  the  like  turn ;  but  if  neighbours  and  friends  send 
their  cators  to  purloin  one  another,  such  actions  are  judged  by 
the  Breighoon  aforesaid.     .     .     . 

"  Shamrocks,  water-cresses,  roots  and  other  herbs  they  feed 
upon  ;  oatmeal  and  butter  they  cram  together.  They  drink 
whey,  milk,  and  beef-broth ;  flesh  they  devour  without  bread  ; 
corn,  such  as  they  have,  they  keep  for  their  horses.  In  haste 
and  hunger,  they  squeeze  out  the  blood  of  raw  flesh,  and  ask  no 
more  dressing  thereto ;  the  rest  boileth  in  their  stomachs  with 
aquavitse,  which  they  swill  in,  after  such  a  surfeit,  by  quarts  and 
pottles.  Their  kine  they  let  blood,  which,  grown  to  a  jelly,  they 
bake  and  overspread  with  butter,  and  so  eat  it  in  lumps." 

IV. — POETRAITS    OF    INDIVIDUAL    IRISHMEN. 

Omitting  his  beautiful  sketches  of  Irish  saints,  I  give 
those  of  ordinary  Christians,  some  of  whom  were  not 
paragons  of  piety.  His  appreciation  of  Irish  piety  is  revealed 
in  the  record  of  the  foundation  of  "  St.  Mary's  Abbey, 
beside  Dublin,"  of  the  Abbeys  of  Koseglasse,  Dunbrody, 
Jerpoint,  '' Ines  in  Ulster,"  Ingo  Dei,  Comer,  Kilmaynam, 
and  Kilcullen ;  of  the  Abbey  of  Knockmoy,  by  Cathal 
Crovderg,  king  of  Connaught;  of  the  Abbey  of  Mellifont, 
founded  by  the  good  king  of  Ergall,  ''  which  is  the  oldest 
I  find  recorded  since  the  Danes'  arrival,  except  St.  Mary's 
Abbey,  beside  Dublin."^    He  says  that — 

"  When  the  City  of  Dublin  was  wasted  by  fire,  and  the  bell- 
house  of  Christ  Church  was  utterly  defaced,  the  citizens,  before 
they  repaired  their  private  harms,  jointly  came  to  succour  ;  and 
collections  were  made  to  redress  the  ruins  of  that  ancient  build- 
ing, which  work,  at  the  decay  of  fire  and  since,  many  devout 
citizens  of  Dublin  have  beautified."  ^ 

He  tells  that — 

"In -1835  died  Kimvricke  Shereman,  sometimes  Mayor  of 
Dublin,  a  benefactor  of  every  church  and  religious  house  twenty 
miles  round  about  the  city.^  His  legacies  to  the  poor  and  others, 
besides  the  liberality  showed  in  his  lifetime,  amounted  to  3,000 
marks  ;  with  such  plenty  were  our  fathers  blessed,  that  cheerfully 
gave  of  their  true  winnings  to  needful  purposes ;  whereas  our 
time,  that  gaineth  excessively,  and  whineth  at  every  farthing  to 
be  spent  on  the  poor,  is  yet  oppressed  with  scarcity  and  beggary, 
.     .     .     This  Mayoralty  of  Dublin  both  for  state  and  charge  of 

^  Keating  asserts  that  "  he  does  not  speak  or  think  of  such  things  "  ! 


"  History  of  Ireland  "  and  its  Critics.  729 

office  and  for  bountiful  hospitality  exceedetb  any  city  in  England 
except  London  .  .  .  James  Butler,  grandsire  of  James  the 
Lord  Deputy,  in  14^41,  was  surnamed  '  the  chaste,'  for  that  of  all 
vices  he  most  abhorred  the  sin  of  the  flesh,  and  in  subduing  of 
the  same  gave  notable  example." 

I  pass  over  such  touches  as — 

"This  report  of  an  insult  offered  to  the  Irish  Franklins  by 
two  Normans,  pickthanks  of  the  guard  of  John,  Earl  of  Glouster, 
caused  the  mightiest  Irish  captains  to  stick  together,  while  their 
lives  lasted,  and  for  no  manner  of  earthly  thing  to  slack  the 
defence  of  their  ancient  liberty." 

And  again: — 

"The  Irish  of  Leinster  made  insurrections,  so  did  Mageoghegan 
in  Meath,  and  O'Brien  in  Munster,  in  which  stir,  Wilham 
Bermingham,  a  warrior  incomparable,  was  found  halting,  and 
was  condemned  to  die  by  Koger  Outlawe.  then  Lieutenant  to  the 
Lord  Justice,  and  so  hanged  was  he,  a  knight  among  thousands 
odd  and  singular." 

Of  Shane  O'Neill,  the  great  enemy  of  the  English,  he 
says  : — 

"  Of  all  the  Irish  princes  none  was  comparable  to  O'Neill  for 
antiquity  and  nobleness  of  blood  .  .  .  O'Neill  encroached 
upon  the  full  possession  of  Ulster,  abiding  uncontrolled,  till  Con 
O'Neill,  fearing  the  puissance  of  Henry  VIII.,  exhibited  to  him  a 
voluntary  submission,  surrendered  all  titles  of  honour,  received  at 
his  hands  the  earldom  of  Tiro  wen,  to  be  held  of  the  king,  of 
English  form  and  tenure ;  arms  he  gave  the  bloody  hand  a 
terrible  significance.  His  son,  Shane,  after  his  father's  decease, 
was  reputed  for  the  rightful  O'Neill,  took  it,  kept  it,  challenged 
superiority  over  the  Irish  lords  of  Ulster,  warred  also  upon  the 
English  part ;  subdued  O'Eeilly,  imprisoned  O'Donnell,  his  wife, 
and  his  sons,  enriched  himself  with  O'Donnell's  forts,  castles,  and 
plate,  detained  pledges  of  obedience,  the  wife  and  child,  fortified  a 
strong  island  in  Tyrone,  which  he  named  spitefully  Foogh-na- 
Gall;  that  is,  'the  hate  of  Englishmen,'  whom  he  so  detested, 
that  he  hanged  a  soldier  for  eating  English  biscuit  .  .  .  He 
was  yet  persuaded  by  Melchior  Hussey,"  sent  unto  him  from  the 
Earl  of  Kildare,  to  reconcile  himself  to  good  order  .  .  .  and 
he  made  a  voyage  into  England,  where  the  courtiers,  noting  his 
haughtiness  and  barbarity,  devised  his  style  thus  : — '  O'Neill  the 
Great,   cousin  to   St.  Patrick,  friend  to  the  Queen  of  England, 

'  It  was  as  an  Irish  servant  of  this  Melchior  that  our  author  escaped 
to  England. 


730  The  Blessed  Edmund  Campion's 

enemy  to  all  the  world  besides.'  Thence  he  sped  home  again, 
graciously  dealt  with ;  used  civility,  expelled  the  Scots  out  of  all 
Ulster,  where  they  intended  a  conquest;  wounded  and  took 
prisoner  their  captain,  James  MacConil,  their  chieftain;  ordered 
the  North  so  properly,  that,  if  any  subject  could  prove  the  loss  of 
money  or  goods  within  his  precinct,  he  would  assuredly  either 
force  the  robber  to  restitution,  or,  of  his  own  cost,  redeem  the 
harm,  to  the  loser's  contentation.  Sitting  at  meat,  before  he  put 
one  morsel  into  his  mouth,  he  used  to  slice  a  portion  above  the 
daily  alms,  and  send  it,  namely,  to  some  beggar  at  his  gate,  say- 
ing, '  it  was  meet  to  serve  Christ  first.' 

"  Gerald  FitzGerald,  Earl  of  Kildare,  a  mighty-made  man, 
full  of  honour  and  courage,  had  been  Lord  Deputy  and  Lord 
Justice  of  Ireland  thirty-four  years.  Between  him  and  the  Earl 
of  Ormond  their  own  jealousies  were  fed  with  envy  and  ambition, 
and  kindled  with  cei'tain  lewd  factions,  abettors  of  either  side, 
ever  since  Ormond,  with  a  great  army  of  Irishmen,  camping  in 
St.  Thomas  Court  at  Dublin,  seemed  to  face  the  countenance  and 
power  of  the  Deputy.  These  occasions,  I  say,  fostered  a  malice 
betwixt  them  and  their  posterities,  many  years  after  incurable, 
causes  of  much  ruffle  and  unquietness  in  the  realm,  until  the  con- 
fusion of  one  house  and  the  nonage  of  the  other  discontinued  their 
quarrels,  which,  except  their  inheritors  have  the  grace  to  put  up, 
and  love  unfeignedly,  as  Gerald  and  Thomas  do  now,  may  hap  to 
turn  their  countries  to  little  good,  and  themselves  to  less. 

"  Ormond  was  nothing  inferior  to  the  other  in  stomach,  and  in 
reach  of  policy  was  far  beyond  him  .  .  .  Kildare  was  in  govern- 
ment a  mild  man,  to  his  enemies  intractable ;  to  the  Irish  such  a 
scourge,  that,  rather  for  despite  of  him  than  for  favour  of  any  part, 
they  relied  upon  the  Butlers,  came  in  under  hi^  protection,  served 
at  his  call,  performed  by  starts,  as  their  manner  is,  the  duty  of  good 
subjects.  Ormond  was  secret  and  drifty,  of  much  moderation  in 
speech,  dangerous  of  every  little  wrinkle  that  touched  his  reputa- 
tion. Kildare  was  open  and  passionable,  in  his  mood  desperate, 
both  of  word  and  deed  ...  a  warrior  incouiparable  ;  towards 
the  nobles,  that  he  favoured  not,  somewhat  headlong  and  unruly. 
Being  charged  before  Henry  VII.  for  burning  the  Church  of 
Cashel,  and  many  witnesses  being  prepared  to  avouch  against 
him  the  truth  of  that  article,  he  suddenly  confessed  the  fact,  to 
the  great  wondering  and  detestation  of  the  council.    When  it  was 

looked  how  he  would  justify  the  matter  :  — '  By quoth  he,  I 

would  never  have  done  it  had  it  not  been  told  me  that  the  arch- 
bishop was  within.'  And  because  the  archbishop  was  one  of  his 
busiest  accusers  there  present,  merrily  laughed  the  king  at  the 
plaiimess  of  the  man,  to  see  him  allege  that  intent  for  excuse 
which  most  of  all  did  aggravate  his  fault. 

"  Gerald  Fitzgerald  was  son  of  the  aforesaid  earl,  and  Lord 
Deputy.      He   chased   the    nation    of    the    O'Tooles,    battered 


"  History  of  Ireland'"  mid  its  Critics.  731 

O'CaiToll's  castles  in  1516,  and  awed  all  the  Irish  of  the  land 
more  and  more.  A  gentleman  valiant  and  well-spoken,  yet  in  his 
latter  time  overtaken  with  vehement  suspicion  of  sundry  treasons 
.  .  .  The  Earl  of  Ossory  brought  evident  proofs  of  the 
deputy's  disorder  :  that  he  winked  at  the  Earl  of  Desmond,  whom 
he  should  have  attached  by  the  king's  letters ;  that  he  curried 
acquaintance  and  friendship  with  the  mere  Irish  enemies ;  that 
he  armed  them  against  him  (Ossory),  the  king's  deputy  ;  that  he 
hanged  and  hewed  roughly  good  subjects,  whom  he  suspected  to 
lean  to  the  Butler's  friendship.  Yet  again,  therefore,  was  Kildare 
commanded  to  appear  before  the  council.  The  Earl  of  Ossory,  to 
show  his  ability  of  service,  brought  to  Dublin  an  army  of  Irish- 
men, having  captains  over  them,  O'Connor,  O'More,  and  O'Carroll, 
and  at  St.  Mary's  Abbey  was  chosen  deputy.  In  which  office 
(being  himself,  save  only  in  feats  of  arms,  a  simple  gentleman) 
he  bare  out  his  honour  and  the  charge  of  government  very 
worthily,  through  the  singular  wisdom  of  his  countess  (a  sister  of 
Kildare's),  a  lady  of  such  port,  that  all  the  estates  of  the  realm 
crouched  unto  her,  so  politic,  that  nothing  was  thought  sub- 
stantially debated  without  her  advice,  manlike  and  tall  of  stature, 
very  rich  and  bountiful.  But  to  those  virtues  was  yoked  such  a 
self-liking,  and  such  a  majesty  above  the  tenure  of  a  subject, 
that,  for  insurance  thereof,  she  sticked  not  to  abuse  her  husband's 
honour  against  her  brother's  folly.  Notwithstanding,  I  learn  not 
that  she  practised  his  undoing ;  but  that  she  by  indirect  means 
wrought  her  brother  out  of  credit  to  advance  her  husband,  the 
common  voice  and  the  thing  itself  speaketh." 

V. — THE   SPEECHES   OF   IRISHMEN  REPORTED   IN   THE 
''  HISTORY.'' 

These  speeches  are  good  specimens  of  Campion's  much- 
admired  style ;  and  as  they  reveal  something  of  what  he 
thought  of  Irishmen  and  the  state  of  their  country,  I  shall 
give  a  few  extracts  : — 

"  The  sixteen  beautiful  Irish  striplings  drew  forth  from  under 
their  womanlike  garments  their  skeans,  and  valiantly  bestirred 
themselves,  stabbing  first  the  tyrant  Turgesius,  next  the  youth 
present,  that  prepared  but  small  resistance.  Out  flew  the  fame 
thereof  into  all  quarters  of  Ireland,  and  the  princes,  nothing  dull 
to  catch  hold  of  such  advantage,  with  one  assent  rose  ready  to 
pursue  their  liberty.  All  Meafcli  and  Leinster  were  soon 
gathered  to  O'Melaghlin,  the  father  of  this  practice,  who  lightly 
leaped  to  horse,  and  commanding  their  forwardness  in  so  natural 
a  quarrel,  said  : — 

"  '  Lordlings  and  friends,  this  case  neither  admitteth  delay 


732  The  Blessed  Edmwid  Campion^ s 

nor  asketh  policy  :  heart  and  haste  is  all  in  all.  While  the  feat 
is  young  and  strong,  and  that  of  our  enemies  some  sleep,  some 
sorrow,  some  curse,  some  consult,  all  are  dismayed,  let  us  antici- 
pate their  fury,  dismember  their  force,  cut  off  their  flight,  occupy 
their  places  of  refuge  and  succour.  It  is  no  mastery  to  pluck 
their  feathers,  but  their  necks,  nor  to  chase  them  in,  but  to  rouse 
them  out ;  to  weed  them,  not  to  rake  them  ;  not  to  tread  them 
down,  but  to  dig  them  up.  This  lesson  the  tyrant  himself  hath 
taught  me.  I  once  demanded  of  him  in  a  parable  by  what  good 
husbandry  the  land  might  be  rid  of  certain  crows  that  annoyed 
it ;  he  advised  me  to  watch  where  they  bred,  and  to  fire  their 
nests  about  their  ears.  Go  we  then  upon  these  cormorants  that 
shroud  themselves  in  our  possessions,  and  let  us  destroy  them,  so 
that  neither  nest  nor  root,  nor  seed,  nor  stalk,  nor  stub,  may 
remain  of  this  ungracious  generation.' 

'*  Scarce  had  he  spoken  the  word,  but,  with  great  shouts  and 
clamours,  they  extolled  the  king  as  patron  of  their  lives  and 
families,  assured  both  courage  and  expedition,  joined  their  con- 
federates, and  with  a  running  camp  swept  every  corner  of  the 
land,  razed  the  castles  to  the  ground,  and  chased  the  strangers 
before  them  ;  slew  all  that  abode  the  battle,  and  recovered,  each 
man,  his  own  precinct  and  former  state  of  government.     .     .     . 

"  Whilst  the  Cardinal  (Wolsey)  was  speaking,  the  Earl  of 
Kildare  chafed  and  changed  colour,  and  sundry  proffers  made  to 
answer  every  sentence  as  it  came.  At  last  he  broke  out,  and 
interrupted  him  thus  : — 

"  *  My  Lord  Chancellor,  I  beseech  you,  pardon  me.  I  am 
short-witted,  and  you,  I  perceive,  intend  a  long  tale.  .  .  But 
go  to,  suppose  my  cousin  Desmond  be  never  had,  what  is  Kildare 
to  blame  for  it  more  than  my  good  brother  of  Ossory,  who, 
notwithstanding  his  high  promises,  having  also  the  king's  power, 
is  glad  to  take  eggs  for  his  money,  and  bring  him  in  at  leisure. 
Cannot  the  Earl  of  Desmond  shift,  but  I  must  be  of  counsel  ? 
Cannot  he  be  hid,  except  I  wink  ?  If  he  be  close,  am  I  his  mate  ? 
If  he  be  friended,  am  I  a  traitor?  ...  I  know  (the informers) 
too  well  to  reckon  myself  convict  by  their  bare  words,  or  heedless 
hearsays,  or  frantic  oaths.  Of  my  cousin  Desmond  they  may  lie 
lewdly,  since  no  man  here  can  tell  the  contrary.  Touching 
myself,  I  never  noted  in  them  so  much  wit,  or  so  much  faith,  that 
I  could  have  gaged  upon  their  silence  the  life  of  a  good  hound, 
much  less  mine  own.  .  .  But  of  another  thing  it  grieveth  me 
that  your  good  Grace,  whom  I  take  to  be  wise  and  sharp,  and  who 
of  your  own  blessed  disposition  wish  me  well,  should  be  so  far 
gone  in  crediting  those  corrupt  informers,  that  abuse  the  ignorance 
of  their  state  and  country  to  my  peril.  Little  know  you,  my 
Lord,  how  necessary  it  is  not  only  for  the  governor,  but  also  for 
every  nobleman  in  Ireland,  to  hamper  his  vincible  neighbours  at 
discretion ;  wherein,  if  they  waited  for  process  of  law,  and  had 


"History  of  Ireland''  and  its  Critics.  733 

not  these  lives  and  lands,  you  speak  of,  within  their  reach,  they 
might  hap  to  lose  their  own  lives  and  lands  without  law.  You 
hear  of  a  case  as  it  were  in  a  dream,  and  feel  not  the  smart  that 
vexeth  us.  In  England  the-re  is  not  a  mean  subject  that  dare 
extend  his  hand  to  filip  a  peer  of  the  realm.  In  Ireland,  except 
the  Lord  hath  cunning  to  his  strength,  and  strength  to  save  his 
own,  and  sufficient  authority  to  rack  thieves  and  varlets  w^hen 
they  stir,  he  shall  find  them  swarm  so  fast,  that  it  will  be  too 
late  to  call  for  justice.  As  touching  my  kingdom,  my  Lord,  I 
wish  you  and  I  had  exchanged  kingdoms  but  for  one  month !  I 
would  trust  to  gather  up  more  crumbs  in  that  space,  than  twice 
the  revenues  of  my  poor  earldom.  But  you  are  well  and  warm, 
and  so  hold  you,  and  upbraid  m_e  not  with  such  an  odious  storm. 
I  sleep  in  a  cabin,  when  you  lie  soft  in  your  bed  of  down ;  I  serve 
under  the  cope  of  heaven,  when  you  are  served  under  a  canopy  ; 
I  drink  water  out  of  a  skull,  when  you  drink  out  of  golden  cups ; 
my  courser  is  trained  to  the  field,  when  your  jennet  is  taught  to 
amble ;  when  you  are  begraced,  and  belorded,  and  crouched  and 
knelt  unto,  then  I  find  small  grace  with  our  Irish  borderers, 
except  I  cut  them  off  by  the  knees.' 

"  Kildare's  son,  Lord  Thomas,  being  deputy  in  his  place,  on 
hearing  the  false  report  of  his  father's  execution,  stood  before  the 
Council  in  Dublin,  and  spoke  : — 

" '  Howsoever  injuriously  we  be  handled,  and  forced  to 
defend  ourselves  in  arms,  when  neither  our  service  nor  our  good 
meaning  towards  our  prince's  crown  availeth,  yet  say  not  here- 
after but  in  this  open  hostility,  which  we  profess  here  and 
proclaim,  we  have  shown  ourselves  no  villaines  nor  churls,  but 
warriors  and  gentlemen.  This  sword  of  state  is  yours,  not  mine  ; 
I  received  it  with  an  oath,  and  have  used  it  to  your  benefit ;  I 
should  offend  mine  honour,  if  I  turned  it  to  your  annoyance.  Now 
I  have  need  of  mine  own  sword,  which  I  dare  trust.  As  for  this 
common  sword,  it  flattereth  me  with  a  golden  scabbard,  but  hath 
in  it  a  pestilent  edge,  already  bathed  in  the  Geraldines'  blood, 
and  whetteth  itself  in  hope  of  destruction.  Save  yourselves  from 
us  as  from  your  open  enemies  !  I  am  none  of  Henry's  deputy,  I 
am  his  foe,  I  have  more  mind  to  conquer  than  to  govern,  to  meet 
him  in  the  field  than  to  serve  him  in  office.  If  all  the  hearts  in 
England  and  Ireland,  that  have  cause  thereto,  would  join  in  this 
quarrer(as  I  trust  they  will),  then  should  he  be  a  byeword  (as  I  trust 
he  shall),  for  his  heresy,  lechery,  and  tyranny,  wherein  the  age  to 
come  may  score  him  among  the  ancient  princes  of  most  abomin- 
able and  hateful  memory.'  " 

On  the  12th  of  December,  1570,  our  author  was  present 
in  the  Upper  House  of  Parliament  in  Dublin,  and  heard 
two  speeches,  whereof  he  took  notes  on  coming  home  to  his 


734  The  Blessed  Edmund  Campion's  "  Histonj  of  Ireland,''  dx. 

lodging.  He  delivered  them  as  near  as  he  "  could  call  them 
to  mind  in  the  same  words  and  sentences,"  that  he  heard 
them.  Campion's  Catholic  host,  the  Speaker  Stanihurst, 
addressing  the  Lord  Deputy,  urged  the  erection  of  grammar 
schools  within  every  diocese,  and  of  a  university,  and  he 
added  : — 

'*  Surely  might  one  generation  sip  a  little  of  this  liquor,  and 
so  be  induced  to  long  for  more ;  both  our  countrymen,  that  live 
obedient,  and  our  unquiet  neighbours,  would  find  such  sweetness 
in  the  taste  thereof,  as  it  would  be  a  ready  way  to  reclaim  them. 
The  unbroken  borderers  possibly  might  be  won  by  this  example." 

Sydney,  the  Lord  Deputy,  also  spoke  in  favour  of  the 
establishment  of  a  university,  and  then  passed  to  the 
subject  of  a  standing  army : — 

'*  You  are  wont  to  reason  :  Why  should  not  we  live  without 
an  army  as  well  as  they  do  in  England?  Why  cannot  our 
noblemen  of  might  in  every  border,  our  tenants  and  servants, 
withstand  the  Irish  next  them,  as  well  as  the  northern  lords  and 
inhabitants  of  Eidesdale  and  Tiddesdale,  and  those  about  the 
Scottish  bank  resist  the  Scots  facing  and  pilfering  as  fast  as  our 
enemies  ?  Touching  Scotland,  it  is  well  known,  they  were  never 
the  men  whom  England  need  to  fear.  They  are  but  a  corner  cut 
out,  and  easily  tamed,  when  they  wax  outrageous.  Your  foes  lie 
in  the  bosom  of  your  countries,  more  in  number,  richer  of 
ground,  desperate  thieves,  ever  at  an  inch,  impossible  to  be 
severed  from  you,  without  any  fence  besides  your  own  valiantness 
and  the  help  of  our  soldiers.  England  is  quiet  within  itself, 
thoroughly  peopled  on  that  side  of  Scotland  which  most  requireth 
it,  guarded  with  an  army  ;  otherwise  the  lords  and  gentlemen 
and  lusty  yeomen  that  dwelt  on  a  row,  are  ready  to  master  their 
private  vagaries  ;  the  island  is  from  all  foreign  invasions  walled 
with  the  wide  ocean.  Were  such  a  sea  betwixt  you  and  the 
Irish,  or  were  they  shut  up  in  an  odd  end  of  the  land,  or  had 
they  no  such  opportunities  of  bogs  and  woods  as  they  have,  or 
were  they  lords  of  the  lesser  part  of  Ireland,  or  were  they 
severed  into  handfuls,  not  able  to  annoy  whole  townships  and 
baronies,  as  they  do,  the  comparison  were  somewhat  like.  But 
alack  !  it  fareth  not  so  with  you.  You  are  beset  round ;  your 
towns  are  feeble,  the  land  empty,  the  commons  bare,  every 
county  by  itself  cannot  save  itself.  Take  away  the  terror  and 
fear  of  our  band,  which  increaseth  your  strength,  and  many  an 
Irish  lord  would  be  set  agog,  that  now  is  full  lowly,  and  holdeth 
in  his  horns ;  and  the  open  enemy  would  scour  your  quarters, 
that  now  dares  not  venture  lest  he  pay  for  his  passage." 


Churches  in  the  East.  735 

From  all  these  passages  taken  together  the  reader  will 
see  how  inexact  are  the  following  statements  : — "  Campion 
never  notices  the  piety,  virtues,  valonr,  and  charity  of  the 
Irish  ;^  ''he  was  employed  to  write  down  everything  Irish  ;"  - 
"he  wrote  with  all  the  prejudices  of  an  Englishman  of  the 
sixteenth  century;"^  "  his  hatred  of  the  Irish  was  as  intense 
and  unnatural  as  that  of  Spencer;"^  "Edmund  Spencer  is 
the  least  unkind  of  English  critics  of  Ireland."^ 

The  last  two  statements  are  partly  disproved  by  the 
passages  quoted  already ;  I  know,  and  at  another  time  will 
prove  them  to  be  false. 

Edmund  Hogan,  S.J. 


CHUKCHES  IN  THE  EAST.— II. 

THE  liturgy  of  the  patriarchate  of  Constantinople,  and 
which  in  the  course  of  time  began  to  be  regarded  as 
the  liturgy  of  the  Greek  Church,  owes  its  origin  to  the 
Apostles,  who  preached  the  Gospel  there.  It  is,  therefore, 
called  by  the  Greeks  themselves  "  Apostolic."  St.  John 
Chrysostom  gave  it  its  present  form,  and  as  so  modified  is  in 
use  throughout  .the  entire  Greek  Church,  whether  orthodox 
or  in  union  with  Kome.  Step  by  step  the  patriarchal  See  of 
Constantinople  succeeded  in  forcing  this  liturgy  into  all  those 
parts  of  the  Eastern  Churches  which  remained  faithful  after 
the  Monophysite  and  Nestorian  heresies  had  rent  the  East. 
Disunion,  however,  was  not  averted.  The  attacks  of 
paganism  had  but  the  effect  of  knitting  the  bond  uniting 
East  and  West ;  distrust  and  ambition  succeeded  in  severing 
it.  From  the  very  outset  the  patriarchs  of  Constantinople 
set  themselves  at  the  head  of  this  destructive  movement. 


1  Keatiug's  UUt..^  ed.  Haliday,  pages  ix.,  Ixxiii. 

2  Hist,  of  Ireland^  by  D'Arcy  M'Ghee,  vol.  ii.,  page  74. 
^  Dewar's  Observations  on  Ireland,  ed.  1812,  page  49. 

*  Dr.  Kelly,  in  Camhrensis  Eversus,  ii.,  364. 

^  Sir  Henry  Maine's  History  oj  Institutions,  page  20, 


736  Churches  in  the  East. 

Ambitious  of  an  equality  with  Kome,  they  trampled  upon 
the  rights  of  more  ancient  and  venerable  sees  in  the  East 
than  their  own.  Jealous  of  Eome,  of  the  Western  Church, 
they  did  not  hesitate  to  bow  their  heads  before  the  despotic 
decrees  of  imperial  minions,  who  hesitated  not  to  intrude  in 
matters  which  were  of  God  and  not  of  Caesar.  It  was  clear 
to  the  world  that  with  the  close  of  the  sixth  century  the 
glory  of  the  Eastern  Church  was  about  to  fade  away  for 
ever.  The  glorious  names  that  adorned  the  third,  fourth, 
and  fifth  centuries,  could  find  no  counterparts  whatever  in 
the  individuals  who  stood  at  the  head  of  the  Eastern  Church 
in  the  sixth.  The  high  ideal  after  which  early  Christianity 
had  been  continually  aspiring,  was  utterly  abandoned  by 
the  retrograding  acts  of  the  TruUan  Synod.  Perhaps,  as 
Origen  had  predicted,  the  work  of  the  Eastern  Church  was 
accomplished  in  the  downfall  of  paganism.  It  was  clear  that, 
bit  by  bit,  the  bond  uniting  the  East  and  West  was  becom- 
ing looser,  until,  as  every  student  of  ecclesiastical  history 
knows  too  well,  it  broke  at  a  moment  the  most  unauspicious 
possible — a  moment  when  Christianity  saw  itself  in  danger  of 
being  swept  away  by  the  torrent  of  Islanism.  As  it  does  not 
enter  the  province  of  the  writer  to  describe  the  events  either 
preceding  the  Photian  schism,  or  those  which  accompanied 
it,  he  finds  himself  bound  to  pass  on,  and  merely  describe 
the  Eastern  Church  as  it  arose  out  of  the  schism.  A  few 
words,  however,  are  necessary  ere  that  be  entered  upon. 

The  patriarchate  of  Constantinople,  though  the  last  in 
point  of  time  as  to  its  erection,  became  in  the  course  of  time, 
owing  to  the  establishment  of  the  imperial  court  there,  the 
chief  in  the  entire  East.  The  Church  there  had  had 
from  the  apostolic  age  a  liturgy  which  it  derived  from  the 
Apostles  sent  there  to  preach  the  Gospel.  This  liturgy  was 
modified  by  St.  John  Chrysostom  (354-407),  and  as  so 
modified  is  in  existence  at  present.  Its  peculiar  features 
are :  leavened  bread  and  the  use  of  the  chalice  for  the 
laity. 

The  work  of  separation  began,  as  is  well  known,  with 
Photius  {phit.  891) ;  but  it  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  been 
completely  achieved  until  the  middle  of  the  eleventh  century, 


Churches  in  the  East.  737 

when  Michael  Cerularius  (1043-59)  declared  for  the  com- 
plete separation  of  the  Eastern  Church  from  that  of  the 
West.  Unfortunately,  it  happened  that  almost  the  entire 
East  followed  the  patriarchate  in  its  apostacy.  The  efforts 
which  were  made  at  various  periods  to  bring  back  the 
Eastern  Church  to  unity  are  too  well  known  to  readers  of 
the  I.  E.  Eecord  to  be  here  repeated.  The  points  in  dispute 
were  brought  to  their  narrowest  limits  at  the  Florentine 
Council.  It  was  clear,  then,  to  all,  that  there  was  only  one 
question  of  any  essential  import,  i.e.,  the  divine  supremacy  of 
the  Church  of  Kome.  Every  other  question  was  either  a 
matter  of  grammatical  expression,  such  as  regards  the  question 
whether  Filoquc  or  pe?'  Filium  be  inserted  in  the  Creed,  or 
else  was  one  of  mere  liturgy  and  discipline.  However,  the 
efforts  of  the  Council  proved  futile  in  the  end.  The  germ  of 
disunion  lay  deeper  than  the  theologians  at  the  Council  were 
inclined  to  believe;  it  lay  in  the  jealousies  of  the  entire  East 
towards  the  West,  and  there  it  remains  even  to  the  present 
day.i 

The  apostacy  of  the  patriarchate  of  Constantinople,  then, 
dragged  with  it  that  of  every  Church  in  the  East  in  union 
with  it.  Everywhere,  except,  as  is  generally  stated,  the 
Patriarchate  of  Jerusalem,  the  West  beheld  the  bonds 
uniting  Christendom  snapping  asunder.  Constantinople  had 
in  the  course  of  ages  built  up  what  the  world  regarded  as  the 
Greek  Church.  Her  patriarchs  had  driven  out  old  and 
venerable  liturgies  from  the  Churches  of  Antioch  and 
Alexandria  ;  and  now,  when  she  had  raised  the  banner  of 
revolt,  these  two  followed  her  in  her  rebellion ;  and  when 
either  she  or  her  children  will  return  to  the  unity  of  that 
fold  from  which  they  have  gone  out,  seems  a  matter  that 
Providence  alone  can  bring  about.  In  the  East  the  hier- 
archy of  the  Greek  Church  consists  of  the  patriarchs  of 
Constantinople,  Antioch,  Jerusalem,  and  Alexandria,  having 


1  At  the  present  day  the  orthodox  Greeks  apparently  deny  the  Proces- 
sion of  the  Holy  Ghost  from  Father  and  Son,  as  well  as  Purgatory.  At 
the  Council  of  Florence,  when  these  matters  were  brought  up  for  discus- 
sion, it  was  clear  to  Western  minds  tliat  what  the  Greeks  objected  to  was 
the  Western  mode  of  expressing  these  truths,  not  the  truths  themselves. 

VOL.  XII.  3  A 


738  Churches  in  the  East. 

under  them  numerous  bishoprics.  A  large  portion  of  the 
Greek  Church  has,  however,  in  the  course  of  time  returned 
to  unity  with  the  Church  of  Kome.  This  is  the  United 
Greek  Church,  called  in  the  East  Melekites.'  They  may 
possibly  reach  a  million  and  a  half,  or  even  two  millions,  in 
Asia  Minor  and  Syria ;  but  the  greater  number  of  United 
Greeks  are  at  present  in  the  Austrian  Empire.  Their  hier- 
archy in  Asia  Minor  consists  of  the  patriarch  of  Alexandria 
and  Jerusalem.  He  generally  resides  at  Damascus.  There 
are  resident  archbishops  at  Tyr,  Hauran,  and  Aleppo ;  and 
bishops  in  Beyrout,  Homs,  Baalbeck,  Saida  or  Sidon,  and 
a  few  other  places  in  Asia  Minor  and  Syria.  The  places 
where  the  United  Greeks  are  most  numerous  in,  are  Syria 
and  Alexandria,  Damascus  and  Aleppo,  there  being  in  the 
last  nearly  twenty  thousand.  Small  communities  of  them  are 
to  be  found  in  nearly  every  town,  and  in  Syria  and  Palestine 
are  more  numerous  than  their  quondam  co-religionists  of 
the  orthodox  Church.  As  to  their  liturgy,  in  Syria  and  Egypt 
it  is  celebrated  in  Arabic,  the  only  Greek  used  being  the 
words  of  the  consecration.  It  differs  in  nowise  from  that  of 
the  orthodox  Church,  and  both  practically  use  the  verna- 
cular language  of  whatever  country  they  are  in.  Thus  the 
name  Greek  does  not  denote  anything  else  but  liturgy; 
and  even  that,  as  far  as  Greek  is  concerned,  is  almost  a 
non-existing  item  in  Syria. 

The  Latin  Church,  too,  has  established  herself  in  the 
East,  amid,  so  to  speak,  the  wreck  and  ruin  of  the  Churches 
that  have  unfortunately  fallen  away  from  unity  with  her 
to  cower  before  the  pride  of  Islam.  Though  it  may  be 
impossible  at  present  to  state  the  exact  moment  when  native 
Latin  communities  first  began  to  exist  in  the  East,  it  may 
be  safely  admitted  that  such  hardly  existed  before  the 
eleventh  century.  Keligious  communities  of  Latins,  that  is, 
of  nuns  and  monks  from  Europe,  have  undoubtedly  existed, 
at  least  in  Palestine,  wherever  there  were  sanctuaries,  as  far 
back  as  the  fourth  century;  but  it  does  not   appear   that 

1  Melekite,  Siriace  et  Arahice,  Imperialist.  The  title  was  given  in  scorn 
by  the  Eiitychians  to  the  Catholic  party,  because  they  were  upheld  by  the 
Emperor  Marcian  (450-57). 


Churches  in  the  East.  739 

before  the  incoming  of  the  Crusaders  there  were  anywhere  to 
be  found  native  Syrians  following  the  liturgy  of  the  Catholic 
Church  of  Kome.  In  all  probability,  the  settling  down  in 
Syria  and  Palestine  of  many  of  those  who  followed  in  the 
wake  of  the  Crusaders,  as  well  as  owing  to  the  great  influence 
which  the  presence  of  the  Christian  armies  of  the  West 
exercised  over  the  Christian  populations  both  within  as  well 
as  beyond  the  boundaries  of  the  Latin  kingdom  of  Jerusalem, 
contributed  in  a  great  measure  to  the  forming  of  such 
communities.  Members  of  the  disunited  Eastern  Churches 
came  over  to  unity,  and  placed  themselves  under  the 
jurisdiction  of  the  Latin  clergy.  Traces  of  this  influence 
exercised  by  the  presence  of  the  Crusaders  in  the  East  over 
the  Eastern  Churches  can  be  found  in  many  instances.  It 
was  owing  to  it  principally  that  the  Maronite  Church  shook 
off  all  taint  of  Monothelism  and  became  united  with  Eome. 
Indeed  it  was  quite  natural  that  such  a  tendency  should 
exist.  Crushed  by  the  tyranny  of  the  Moslem,  Christians 
beyond  the  frontier  of  the  Latin  kingdom  looked  for  help 
and  sympathy  to  the  warriors  which  the  Latin  Church  had 
sent  to  the  East  to  win  back  the  sanctuaries  of  Christianity 
from  the  grasp  of  the  followers  of  Islam,  and  crush  the 
tyranny  of  the  Moslem  world.  All  this  would  sufficiently 
account  for  the  establishment  of  Latin  communities  in  the 
heart  of  the  Eastern  Churches,  quite  apart  from  the  strenuous 
efforts  made  by  the  missionaries  which  Eome  sent  to  the 
East  during  the  middle  ages,  and  even  up  to  the  present ; 
but  to  speak  of  those  missions  is  hardly  beside  the  subject 
of  the  present  essay ;  and  so  it  must  be  left  to  be  told  else- 
where. What  has  been  here  said  will  be  quite  sufficient  to 
refute  the  absurd  statements  found  in  many  English  hand- 
books on  Palestine,  among  others  that  of  Murray,  where  it  is 
stated  (page  23)  •}  "  The  Papal  schismatic  {sic)  Churches  are 
called  the  Greek-Catholic,  or  Melchite,  and  the  Syrian 
Catholic.  These  have  sprung  up  from  the  missionary 
efforts  of  Romish  priests  and  Jesuits  during  the  past  two 
centuries!" 

1  Confer,  Murray's  Handbook^  Syria  and  Palestine-    London,  1875. 


740  Churches  in  the  East. 

This  statement  is  simply  false  and  misleading  in  the 
extreme.  Converts  made  by  Komish  missionaries  from  any  of 
the  non-united  Churches  become  ipso  facto  Latins,  and  not 
Melchites,  &c.  The  fact  is,  that,  with  but  few  exceptions, 
all  the  united  branches  of  the  Eastern  Churches  date  back 
to  those  times  when  heresy  and  schism  tore  their  Church 
asunder ;  to  a  period  long  anterior  to  any  so-called  invasion 
of  Koman  missionaries.  The  sole  instances  of  any  account 
where  Roman  missionaries  have  had  anything  to  do  with 
the  bringing  back  to  unity  with  Catholicity  any  of  the 
Eastern  Churches,  or  parts  of  those  Churches,  are  such  as 
took  place  from  the  fourteenth  century  up  to  the  Council  of 
Florence.  Now  and  then  a  community  of  the  non-united 
Churches  expresses  its  willingness  to  become  united  with 
Rome,  and  in  such  cases  alone  does  that  particular  commu- 
nity retain  its  old  liturgy,  and  so  fall  under  the  jurisdiction 
of  the  Syrian,  Armenian,  or  Coptic  Catholic  bishop,  as  the 
case  may  be,  and  not  under  the  Latin  clergy.  A  new  edi- 
tion of  Murray's  handbook  for  Syria  and  Palestine  is  about 
to  be  brought  out,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  as  it  will 
naturally  be  availed  of  by  English  Catholic  tourists  in  these 
countries,  such  like  false  and  misleading  statements  will  be 
corrected,  as  well  as  others  regarding  the  management,  &c., 
of  the  sanctuaries. 

The  Latin  Church  in  the  East,  including  Egypt,  and 
apart  from  its  missionary  work — merely  regarding  it  as  an 
established  Church,  guarding  the  native  communities  under 
its  jurisdiction — is  at  present  divided  into  four  principal 
vicar  apostolicates,  several  prefectures  apostolic  and  has 
an  archbishopric  at  Smyrna,  and  a  resident  patriarch  at 
Jerusalem.  These  four  vicariates  apostolic  for  the  govern- 
ment of  the  Latin  communities  within  their  districts  are 
ruled  over  by  so  many  apostolic  delegates  whose  duty  it  is 
to  represent  the  Holy  See  in  all  matters  concerning  the 
Eastern  united  Churches.  Thus  the  apostolic  delegate  of 
Alexandria,^  in  Egypt,  acts  as  such  for  the  Coptic  Church ; 

1  Monsignor  Guido  Corbelli,  O.S.F.,  formerly  Gustos  Terrse  Sanctae^ 
nominated  1888. 


Churches  in  the  East.  741 

the  apostolic  delegate  of  Beyrouth/  for  all  those  parts  of 
the  Armenian,  Syrian,  Greek  (Nulchite)  and  Chaldean 
Catholics  in  all  Syria  and  Palestine ;  the  apostolic  delegate 
in  Mossul,^  for  the  Chaldean  Church  in  Mesopotamia  and 
Eastern  Armenia;  and  the  apostolic  delegate  of  Constanti- 
nople^ for  the  remaining  parts  of  the  Turkish  Empire.  Up 
to  1837  the  Coptic  Church,  in  union  with  Eome,  was  under 
the  apostolic  delegate  of  Syria,*  but  since  then  a  separate 
delegation  has  been  appointed,  with  residence  in  Alexandria. 
A  resident  patriarch  was  appointed  for  Jerusalem  in  1847, 
the  last  presiding  patriarch,  previous  to  then,  having  left 
Palestine  upon  the  fall  of  the  last  stronghold  of  the 
Crusaders,  i.e.,  Acre,  in  1291,  and  the  Custos  of  the  Fran- 
ciscans in  Jerusalem,  during  the  long  interval  acting  as 
vicar  apostolic.  The  difficulties  which  had  up  to  then 
existed,  prevented  the  appointment  of  a  resident  patriarch 
to  that  venerable  See  ;  but  with  the  dawn  of  religious  liberty, 
even  under  the  Crescent,  Pius  IX.  succeeded  in  appointing 
Mons.  Valerga.^ 

Thus  it  is  that  in  almost  every  town  and  city  in  Egypt, 
Palestine,  Syria,  Mesopotamia,  Armenia,  as  well  as  all  along 
the  coast  of  Asia  Minor  proper,  are  to  be  found  native 
communities  following  the  liturgy  of  the  Western  Church, 
and  many,  if  not  most  of  them,  dating  their  establishment 
back  to  the  days  of  the  Crusaders.  Eoughly  speaking,  in 
Egypt  and  Syria,  the  Latin  communities  are,  with  few 
exceptions,  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Franciscans  of  the 
Holy  Land.  They  are,  however,  ably  assisted  by  the 
Jesuits  and  Lazarists  ;  the  former  having  splendid  colleges 
in  Cairo,  Alexandria,  and  in  Beyrout,  besides  numbers  of 
schools  in  different  parts  of  Syria.  At  present  the  Lazarists 

1  Monsignor  Gaudenzio  Bonfigli,  O.S.F.,  late  Custos  of  the  Holy 
Land,  appointed  Delegate  Apostolic  for  Syria,  1889. 

2  Monsignor  Altmayer,  O.P.,  present  incumbent. 
'  Present  incumbent,  Monsignor  JBonetti. 

^  Confer.  Alzog.,  Universal  Church  History,  vol.  iv.,  page  320. 

^  Died  Dec.  2nd,  1872 ;  succeeded  by  Mons.  Bracco,  who  died 
June.  1889;  present  patriarch,  Monsig.  Lodivico  Piavi,  O.S.F.,  late 
Delegate  Apostolic  for  Syria,  and  Vicar  Apostolic  for  the  Vicariate  of 
Aleppo. 


742  Churches  hi  the  East. 

have  but  few  residences  in  Syria.  In  Mesopotamia  the 
Latin  communities  are  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the 
vicar  apostoHc  of  Mossul,  who,  with  a  number  of  Trench 
Dominicans,  look  after  the  Latin  CathoHcs  in  all  that  part 
of  the  Turkish  Empire.  Armenia  has  likewise  numerous 
Latin  communities,  which  are  under  the  care  of  the 
Capuchins  and  Jesuits ;  the  former  being  in  Trebizond, 
Kars,  Erzeroum,  Mardin,  Kharpoot,  Orfa,  and  other  places 
of  minor  importance.  In  the  other  parts  of  Asia  Minor, 
along  the  Archipelago,  the  Lazarists  and  Capuchins  are  the 
clergy  in  charge  of  the  Latins. 

To  enter  into  a  ininute  detail  of  the  missionary  work 
carried  out  by  these  religious  bodies  would  be  impossible  in 
these  pages  ;  so  the  writer  leaves  that  for  another  time ; 
nor  would  it  be  possible  to  give  anything  like  an  account  of 
the  Churches  which  Protestantism  has,  during  the  past 
forty  years  or  so,  been  endeavouring  to  found  in  the  East. 
Congregationalists,  Presbyterians,  and  Anglicans,  have  alike 
tried  their  hand  to  establish  themselves  in  the  East ;  but 
the  only  section  anywhere  worth  notice,  or  numerous,  is 
that  of  the  American  Congregationalists,  who  have  many 
adherents  in  various  parts  of  Armenia.  The  Anglican 
Church  having  disastrously  failed  to  keep  up  the  sham  of  a 
bishopric  in  Jerusalem,  the  two  sections  of  the  Protestant 
community  there,  i.e.,  the  United  Lutheran,  and  the  few 
Anglicans,  have  been  unable  to  agree  to  pull  together  under 
the  terms  arranged  for  them  by  the  Prussian  and  English 
Governments  in  1857.  At  present  each  section  has  its  own 
bishop  ;  but,  as  a  matter  of  course,  the  whole  thing  will  soon 
fall  through,  owing  to  the  few  members,  especially  of  the 
Anglican  Church,  and  to  want  of  funds. 

Such,  then,  is  a  brief  account  of  the  actual  state  of  the 
East,  as  far  as  its  Churches  are  concerned.  The  reader  may 
ask  himself  what  are  the  prospects  of  any  of  those  Churches — 
of  Catholicity  itself — of  Islamism — of  Protestantism ;  but  to 
such  a  demand,  it  is  impossible  at  present  to  give  an 
adequate  or  satisfactory  reply.  Perhaps  history  may  give 
that  reply.  They  arose,  and  they  have  fallen.  They  sprung 
from  that  Gospel  preached  by  twelve  peasants  from  lowly 


Dubiorum  Lititrgicoriim  Solutio.  743 

Galilee,  crushing  as  they  sprung  into  life  the  mighty  spell 
with  which  the  myths  of  Assyria,  Egypt,  and  Greece, 
enthralled  the  civilized  world  of  those  days  ;  they  fell  before 
the  barbarian  hordes  that  rushed  to  death  under  the  banner 
of  Mahomet.  Their  glory  has  departed.  Sees,  the  names 
of  which  can  never  be  forgotten  in  the  annals  of  civilization, 
are  now  the  homes  of  the  Bedouin  of  the  desert.  Assuredly 
Providence  foresaw  all  this — perhaps  willed  it.  What  that 
same  Providence  may  decree  in  the  future,  it  is  impossible  to 
tell,  or  even  to  imagine.  What  may  happen,  what  Western 
Christianity  would  fain  accomplish  in  order  to  uplift  her 
fallen  sister,  the  Church  of  the  East ;  what  efforts  she  is 
now  putting  forth  in  order  to  accomplish  that  end  ;  what 
have  been  both  in  the  past,  as  well  as  at  present,  the 
successes  or  failures  which  her  efforts  have  encountered — all 
that  enters  into  what  may  be  said  about  her  missions  ;  and 
that  must  be  reserved  for  another  time. 

J.  L.  Lynch,  O.S.F. 


DUBIOKUM  LITURGICOKUM  SOLUTIO.^ 

IS  ONE  JUSTIFIED  IN  USING  SUCH  BOOKS  AS  PUSTET'S 
''  COMPENDIUM  ANTIPHONARII  ET  BREVIARII  ROMANI," 
&C.,^  IN  DISCHARGING  THE  OBLIGATION  OF  THE  DIVINE 
OFFICE  ? 

QUESTIO. 

Plures  extant  libri  liturgici,  quos  Typographus  Fridericus 
Pustet  excerpit  ex  aliis  typicis  et  in  lucem  prodit,  sed  vel 
nullam  vel  approbationem  specialem  non  praeseferunt,  ut 
ex.  gr.  Cantus  of&ciorum  Nativitatis  D.  N.  I.  C. — Tridui 
sacri — Diurnale  parvum — Cantus  diversi — etc.  Ex  iis  autem 
nonnulli  pro  approbatione  habent :  Imprimi permittitur,  vel, 

^  We  are  indebted  to  the  Ephemerides  Liturgicae  (Romae)  for  the 
following  interesting  questions.— Ed.  I.  E.  K. 

2  These  books  have  the  Imprimatur  of  the  Vicar-General,  but  not 
the  attestation  of  the  bishop  that  they  agree  with  the  Editio  Typica. 


744  Dubiorum  Liturgicorum  Bolutio. 

Imprimatur  die  12  Iu7iii,  1889,  G.  Erlembron  Vic.  in  Spiri- 
twil,  Gen.  Nonnulli  autem  nullam  approbationem  habent, 
dicitur  tamen  ex  typica  editione  eos  esse  excerptos.  Quae- 
xitur  ergo,  utrum  qui  ad  Horas  Canonicas  tenetur,  cum  his 
libris  officium  recitans  satisfaciat  nee  ne  ? 

EESPONSIO. 

Triplex  in  casu  institui  potest  quaestio :  prima,  num 
eiusmodi  approbatio  in  casu  valeat :  secunda,  utrum 
regularis  opprobatio  in  casu  requiratur:  tertia,  utrum 
officium  in  eiusmodi  libris  recitans  satisfaciat. 

Primam  resolvimus  fiegative.  Fridericus  Pustet  est 
Typographus  S.  K.  Congregationis  :  ut  sacri  codices  omnes 
qui  ab  ea  vulgantur,  peculiarem  habeant  ab  eadem  S.  C. 
revisionem  et  approbationem,  et  maxime  prima s  sacrorum 
librorum  editiones,  quae  pro  typicis,  seu  ad  imitandum  pro- 
positis  (non  tamen  ad  errores  quod  attinet,  si  quos  habeant), 
sunt  ab  omnibus  retinendae. 

Quinimo  ad  abundantiam,  ut  credimus,  etiam  Ordinarius 
loci  suam  approbationem  ponere  maluit,  uti  constat  nobis 
esse  factum  circa  secundam  Pontificalis  et  Kitualis  Romani 
Editionem.  Ut  proinde^has  Editiones  esse  vere  authenticas 
dubitare  nemo  rationabiliter  valeat. 

At  in  casu  agitur  de  aliquibus  partibus,  a  libris  quidem 
authenticis  excerptis,  sed  nulla  S.  R.  Congregationis  appro- 
batione  gaudentibus.  lam  vero  oportet,  ut  ad  Horas  Canoni- 
cas obligatus  certo  sciat  ex  attest atione  Episcopi,  editionem 
qua  utitur,  cum  typica  concordare.  Atqui  id  non  dicit 
attestatio  Vicarii  in  Spiritualibus  Generalis,  declarans 
simpliciter,  editionem  aliquam  fuisse  e  typica  depromptam. 
Quamvis  enim  id  verum  esse  constet,  quibusdam  tamen 
mutationibus  obnoxia  esse  potuit,  ut  dissonet  a  typica.  Ergo 
approbatio,  de  qua  in  casu,  nullius  est  ponderis,  ut  tamquam 
non  sufficiens  habenda  sit,  proindeque  non  valeat. 

Ad  alterum  respondemus  affirmative,  hoc  est :  in  praefatis 
editionibus  omnino  requiri  regularem  approbationem  Epis- 
copi loci.  Et  sane,  quicumque  ex  Typographis,  accepta 
facultate,  liturgicos  libros  valet  edere,  in  iisque  edendis, 
typicis  editionibus  tenetur  uti.     Verum  sufficietne  lectores 


Dubiorum  Liturgicorum  Solutlo.  745 

monere,  illos  libros  fuisse  ex  authenticis  editionibus  ex- 
cerptos  ?  Negative  ex  super  allata  ratione  ;  requiritur  enim 
lit  Episcopus  declaret,  novas  editiones  revera  concordare  cum 
typica.  Constat  id  satis  ex  S.  E.  Congregationis  Decreto 
Generali  4739,  vi  cuius,  Ordinarii  locorum  testari  in  singulis 
editionibus  tenentur,  nova  exemplaria  concordare  cum  iis, 
quae  Romae  sunt  irapressa,  impraesenti  vero,  cum  typicis. 
Ita  factum  cernimus  in  cunctis  recentioribus  editionibus,  ut 
in  Tornacensi  per  Desclee,  in  Mechliniensi  per  Dessain,  in 
Taurinensi  per  Marietti,  etc.  Nee  ratio  est,  ob  quam  a  lege 
hac  tenenda  eximantur  editiones,  licet  a  typicis  depromptae, 
quas  Fridericus  Pustet  evulgat.  Licet  ergo  iste,  Typographi 
honore  fruatur  S.  E.  Congregationis,  quando  haec  suam 
approbationem  non  ponit,  ut  in  casu  evenit,  in  illius 
editionibus,  eam  ponere  tenetur  loci  Episcopus.  Qui 
testari  de  more  debet,  non  iam  illas  editiones  esse 
excerptas  e  typica,  quod  supponitur,  sed  cum  typica  perfecte 
concordare. 

Ad  alterum  denique  quod  pertinet,  respondemus,  seriam 
non  posse  institui  quaestionem,  utrum  qui  in  libro  liturgico 
approbatione  Episcopi  carente,  officium  recitat,  satisfaciat 
obligationi,  si  tamen  officii  forma  ilia  sit,  quam  S.  Pius  V  in 
sua  Bulla  Quod  a  7iohis  requirit.  Eatio  est,  quia  etsi  liber 
approbatione  Episcopi  careat,  nihilominus  forma  officii 
Bullae  S.  Pii  V  perfecte  respondet,  ut  supponimus,  sub  qua 
idem  Sanctus  Pontifex  Horas  Canonicas  recitari  praescribit. 
Arroges,  librum  in  casu  non  carere  approbatione  quod  forma 
praescripta  deficiat,  sed  ex  alia  causa,  puta  ex  incuria,  ex 
falsa  hypothesi,  vi  cuius  approbatione  baud  indigere  censetur 
etc.  alioquin  eadem  approbatione  non  careret.  Cum  ergo 
forma  officii  ea  certo  sit,  quam  Ecclesia  exigit,  indubia 
est  quoque  satisfactio,  neque  aliud  erui  potest  ex  praefata 
Bulla. 

Attamen  codices  sine  approbatione  edere  aut  vulgare  non 
licet,  et  severius  loquendo,  nee  cum  iis  officium  recitare. 
Idque,  sive  ut  legi  inhaereamus,  quae  eiusmodi  attestationem 
vult,  sive  ut  incommoda  evitemus,  quae  ex  hac  legis  inob- 
servantia  derivare  possunt. 


746  Duhiorum  Liturgicorum  Solutio. 

SHOULD  THE  PSALM  "  DE  PEOFUNDIS  "  AND  THE  PRAYER 
"  FILEDIUM  DEUS  OMNIUM  "  BE  SAID  BY  THE  CELE- 
BRANT AND  CLERGY  AFTER  THE  ABSOLUTION  AT  THE 
CATAFALQUE  ? 

QUESTIO. 

Post  Absolutionem  ad  tumulum,  quae  quotidie  peragitur 
post  Missam  cum  cantu,  secundum  quod  haec  de  die  est  aut 
de  requie,  Celebrans  post  De  profundis  in  reditu  ad  sacra- 
rium  recitatum,  debetne  recitare  Orationem  Fidelium  cum 
suis  praecedentibus  versibus,  uti  indicare  videntur  quidam 
libri  liturgici  Ratisbonae  editi  ? 

RESPONSIO. 

Ante  dubii  solutionem  animadvertere  liceat,  dubium 
aliquam  prae  se  ferre  obscuritatem  in  illis  verbis  secundum 
quod  Missa,  est  de  die  aut  de  requie;  videtur  enim 
innuere,  posse  eiusmodi  absolutionem  fieri  seu  post  Missam 
de  die,  seu  post  Missam  de  requie.  luvet  itaque  observare, 
si  ita  res  se  habet,*  id  esse  prohibitum,  et  Absolutionem  pro 
defunctis  post  Missam  de  die  fieri  non  posse,  nisi  sit  omnino 
a  Missa  separata  et  independens,  quod  certo  constat  ex 
pluribus  decretis. 

Ad  dubium  propositum  respondemus,  Rubricam  Missalis 
Typici  pro  Agendis  defunctorum,  esse  :  "  Qaibus  expeditis 
{Absolutio}iepraesente  cadcivere),  omnes  in  ssiciistisini  .  .  . 
revertentes,  voce  submissa,  sed  intelligibili,  Celebrans  dicifc 
Si  iniquitates,  inde  alternatim  cum  choro  Psalm.  De 
profundis,  etc."  Hae  autem  preces  per  Orationem  Fidelium 
cum  consuetis  versiculis  concluduntur.  Idem  servandum 
esse  iubet  in  Absolutione  absente  cadavere.  Id  Bituale  non 
habet  profecto ;  sed  Missale  typicum  observandum  esse 
quomodo  dubitari  potest  ? 


IS  THE  ANTIPHON  "  SI  INIQUITATES"  TO  BE  SAID  IN  FULL, 
AT  THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  PSALM  WHICH  IS  SAID 
BEFORE  THE  BODY  IS  BORNE  TO  THE  CHURCH  ? 

RESPONSIO. 

Negative.    Eubrica  Ritualis  ita  se  exprimit :  ''Parochus 
vero  antequam  cadaver  efferatur,  aspergit  aqua   benedicta, 


Duhiorum  Liturgicormn  Solid lo.  747 

mox  dicit  antiphonam  Si  iniquitates  cum  psalmo  Be 
profundis,  etc.  In  fine  ...  repetit  antiphonam 
totam  Si  iniquitates  observaveris  Domine,  Domine  qicis 
sustinehit  (tit.  vi.,  cap.  3,  n.  2)."  Licet  Eubrica  habeat 
verbum  dicit  in  initio,  cmn  habere  potuisset  inclioat,  unde 
non  adeo  perspicua  hie  dici  posset ;  nihilominus,  si  perpen- 
datur  totius  antiphonae  inscriptio  in  fine,  satis  dignoscitm', 
n  initio  esse  solmnmodo  inchoandam.  Insnper  in  fine 
Kubrica  dicit :  Bepetit  antiphonam  totam;  ergo  supponit, 
eam  inchoari  tantmn  prima  vice.  Praeterea  unitas  finic- 
tionis  fert,  ut  non  duplicatur  antiphona,  sicut  non  dupH- 
catur  Exultahunt  Bomino  dum  cadaver  effertur.  Insuper 
natura  ritus  minus  solemnis  idem  quoque  suggerit.  Denique 
ita  quoque  expresse  De  Herdt  docet,  citatque  Cavalerii 
auctoritatem ;  et  eiusmodi  fert  etiam  romana  consuetudo. 


SHOULD  THE    PECTORAL  CEOSS  APPEAR  OVER  THE 
CHASUBLE   AT   MASS  ? 

QUESTIO. 

Episcopi  non  debent,  sicut  Sacerdotes,  stolam  induentes 
pro  Missa,  in  crucis  formam  componere,  profecto  ut  srux 
pectoralis  in  iisdem  Episcopis  appareat.  Ergo  ea  non 
videtur  subtus  casulam  recondenda  esse,  sed  potius  supra,  ut 
appareat.  Insuper  pretiosiores  cruces,  quibus  Episcopi  saepe 
donantur  ex  liberaHtate  summi  Pontificis,  peculiariter  donari 
videntur  pro  Pontificahbus  agendis;  verum,  si  contegi 
debent  planeta,  fere  inutile  evadit  donum.  Nonne  ergo 
defendi  sententia  potest,  docens,  Episcopos  iure  merito 
posse  gestare  super  casulam  pectoralem  crucem,  seu  in 
Missa  privata,  seu  in  Pontificahbus  ? 

RESPONSIO. 

Ut  ab  ultima,  quam  Emus.  Inquirens  exponit,  anim- 
adversione  incipiamus,  dicendum  imprimis  est.  Sum- 
mum  Pontificem,  cum  singular!  nonnuUos  ex  Episcopis 
benevolentia  prosequens,  speciali  aliquo  sacro  dono  afticit, 
nil  ahud  posse  pro  fine  habere,  nisi  ut  dona  adhibeantur, 


748  Buhiorum  Liturgicorum  Solutio. 

prouti  liturgicae  leges  postulant.  Neque  aliter  iudicari 
potest,  quin  sapientiae,  qua  Pontifices  excellere  oportet,  et 
excellunt,  gravis  inferatur  iniuria.  Sane,  nonne  risu  dignus 
diceretur,  qui  assereret,  Episcopum  ali quern,  puta  Titularem, 
posse  ad  libitum  in  quacumque  sacra  function e  baculo 
pastor  ali  uti,  quod  ilium  dono  a  summo  Pontifice  acceperit  ? 
Similiter  quis  pretiosiorem  posset  deferre  stolam  super 
planetam,  quia  ilia  pariter  a  Summo  Pontifice  donatus  fuit. 
Quaestio  itaque  ad  hoc  reducitur,  ut  sciamus,  qualis  esse 
debeat  crucis,  pectoralis  usus  in  functionibus  liturgicis,  iuxta 
rituales  leges,  hunc  enim  solum  sibi  praefigere  finem  possunt 
Pontifices,  dum  sacrum  aliquod  Episcopis  largiuntur  donum. 
At  sponte  se  offert  lex  Caeremonialis  Episcoporum,  quae 
docet :  "  Diaconus  .  .  .  sumpta  Cruce  pectorali,  eamque 
etiam  in  parte  prius  osculatam,  ipsi  Episcopo  osculandam 
praebet,  et  eius  collo  imponit,  ita  ut  ante  pectus  pendeat 
(lib.  ii.,  cap  viii.,  n.  14)."  Postea,  cum  agit  de  casula 
induenda,  prosequitur :  ''Moxsurgit  Episcopus,  et  induitur 
ab  eisdem  planeta,  quae  hinc  inde  super  brachia  aptatur  et 
revolvitur  diligenter,  ne  ilium  impediat  (loc.  cit.,  n.  19)." 
Altum  ergo  de  cruce  pectorali  extra  casulam  ponenda  silen- 
tium  servat  lex,  ut  omnino  arbitrarium  foret,  si  id  fieret. 
Insuper  lex  agit  explicite  de  omnibus  pontificalibus  orna- 
mentis  atque  etiam  de  cruce,  et  praescribit  ordinem,  quo 
indui  lis  debet  Episcopus.  lam  vero  crucem,  iuxta  legem. 
Episcopus  t{ebet  accipere  post  albam  et  singulum  {Caerem., 
loc.  cit.,  n.  13),  ergo  nequaquam post  casulam.  At  si  cruce 
ante  stolam  induendus  est  Episcopus,  baud  post  casulam, 
videtur  omnino  contra  legem  ponere  crucem  post  planetam ; 
quia  si  id  lex  voluisset,  minime  tacuisset,  sed  dixisset  potius, 
crucem  post  casulam  esse  induendam.  Parum  enim  vel 
nihil  interesse  poterat,  ut  intus  vel  extra  maneret  catenula, 
sed  obiectum  Caeremonialis  erat  crux.  Cum  ergo  crucem 
ante  casulam  induendam  ordinet  Caeremoniale,  iam  patet, 
si  quid  videmus,  illam  debere  subter,  baud  super,  casulam 
remanere. 

Ad  rem  cl.  Martinuccius,  cuius  textualia  verba  referre 
iuvet:  "  Paramentis  sacris  indui  debet  Episcopus  eo  ordine, 
quo  indicatur  a  Caeremoniali  Episcoporum  et  Eubri'^is  Gene- 


Dubiorum  Liturgicorum  Sohitio.  749 

ralibus  Missalis  Komani.  Episcopus  stolam  in  pectore  non 
decussat,  ut  praescribitur  Presbyteris,  eo  quod  utitur  cruce 
pectorali,  quam  debet  induere  ante  stolam.  Quocirca  crux 
pectoralis  debet  semper  superstare  Albae  ...  Si  Epis- 
copus deberet  crucem  praedictam  super  planetam  ponere, 
praeterquamquod  hoc  a  Eubricis  praescriberetur,  non  solum 
deberet  stolam  in  pectore  decussare,  sed  induere  crucem 
post  planetam  ipsam.  Summus  Pontifex  in  celebrando 
Sacro,  tum  privato  tum  solemni,  semper  utitur  cruce  pecto- 
rali, nee  unquam  eam  extrahit  et  reponit  super  planetam, 
sed  retinet  super  Alba.  Hinc  infertur,  quod  contra  regulas 
quidam  Caeremoniarum  magistri  docent  Episcopos,  ut  ponant 
crucem  pectoralem  super  planetam,  etc.  {Manual.  Gaerem.^ 
lib.  v.,  cap.  ix.,  n.  60,  not.  a.) 

Ex  dictis  infertur  etiam,  allatam  a  Kmo.  Inquirente 
rationem  stolae  non  decussandae  ut  crux  appareat,  quid 
speciosi  praeseferre  quidem,  sed  non  veritatis.  Etenim 
Caeremoniale  exigit,  ut  stola  non  sit  ante  pectus  transversa 
in  modum  crucis,  sed  aequaliter  ante  pectus  jpendeat  (loc. 
cit.,  n.  14).  Missale  vero  dicit :  *'  Si  Celebrans  sit  Episcopus 
.  .  .  non  ducit  stolam  ante  pectus  in  modum  crucis,  sed 
sinit  bine  inde  utrasque  extremitates  pendere  {Bit.  serv.  in 
celebr.  Missae.,  tit.  1,  n.  4)."  Ergo  ratio  unica,  ex  lege 
patens,  ob  quam  stola  in  Episcopis  non  decussatur,  est  crux 
pectoralis :  adeo  ut,  sicuti  Sacerdotibus  est  decussanda  ut 
crucem  ante  pectus  habeant,  ita  non  decussanda  Epis- 
copis, quia  crucem  pectoralem  induunt.  Verum  sicut  in 
Presbyteris  non  debet  videri  stola,  ad  modum  crucis  tamen, 
ita  neque  crux  pectorabs  in  Episcopis.  Ergo  non  possumus, 
quin  respondeamus  ad  propositum  dubium,  negative. 


[     750    J 

2)ocument 


ENCYCLICAL     LETTER     OF     HIS     HOLINESS     POPE     LEO     XIII. 
''  DE  CONDITIONE  OPIFICUM." 
(Concluded.) 
Sanctissimi  Domini  nostei  Leonis  divina  peovidentia  Papae 
xiii.   litteeae    encyclicae    ad    pateiaechas      peimates 
aechiepiscopos    et    episcopos  univeesos   catholrci     oebis 
geatiam  et  communionem  cum  apostolica  sede  hal^entes. 
De  Conditione  Opificum. 
Veneeabilibus  frateibus  patriaechis  peimatibus  aechiepiscopis 
et  episcopis  univeesis  catholici  oebis   geatiam  et  com- 
munionem cum  apostolica  sede  habentibus. 

LEO  PP.  XIII. 

VeNEEABILES  FEATEES  SALUTEM  ET   APOSTOLICAM   BENEDICTIONEM. 

Eem  hoc  loco  attingimus  sat  magni  momenti  :  quae  recte 
intelligatur  necesse  est,  in  alterutram  partem  ne  peccetur.  Vide- 
licet salarii  definitur  libero  consensu  modus  :  itaque  dominus  rei, 
pacta  mercede  persoluta,  liberavisse  fidem,  nee  ultra  debere  quid- 
quam  videatur.  Tunc  solum  fieri  injuste,  si  vel  pretium  dominus 
solidum,  vel  obligatas  artifex  operas  reddere  totas  recusaret :  his 
caussis  rectum  esse  potestatem  politicam  intercedere,  ut  suum 
cuique  jus  incolume  sit,  sed  praeterea  nullis.  Cui  augmentationi 
aequus  rerum  judex  non  facile,  neque  in  totum  assentiatur,  quia 
non  est  absoluta  omnibus  partibus  :  momentum  quoddam  rationis 
abest  maximi  ponderis.  Hoc  est  enim  operari,  exercere  se  rerum 
comparandarum  caussa,  quae  sint  ad  varies  vitae  usus,  potissi- 
mumque  ad  tuitionem  sui  necessariae.  In  sudor e  vultus  tui 
■vesceris  ;pane^  Itaque  duas  velut  notas  habet  in  homine  labor 
natura  insitas,  nimirum  ut  ^personalis  sit,  quia  vis  agens  adhaeret 
personae,  atque  ejus  omnino  est  propria,  a  quo  exercetur,  et  cujus 
est  utilitati  nata  :  deinde  ut  sit  necessarms,  ob  hanc  caussam, 
quod  fructus  laborum  est  homini  opus  ad  vitam  tuendam  :  vitam 
autem  tueri  ipsa  rerum,  cui  maxime  parendum,  natura  jubet. 
Jamvero  si  ex  ea  dumtaxat  parte  spectetur  quod  personalis  est, 
non  est  dubium  quin  integrum  opifici  sit  pactae  mercedis  angustius 

iGen.  iii.  19. 


Document.  751 

finire  modum  :  quemadmodum  enim  operas  dat  ille  voluntate,  sic 
et  operarum  mercede  vel  tenui  vel  plane  nulla  contentus  esse 
voluntate  potest.  Sed  longe  aliter  judicandum  si  cum  ratione 
pcrsonalitatis  ratio  conjungitur  necessitatis,  cogitatione  quidem 
non  re  ab  ilia  separabilis.  Reapse  manere  in  vita,  commune 
singulis  officium  est,  cui  scelus  est  deesse.  Hinc  jus  reperiendarum 
rerum,  quibus  vita  sustentatur,  necessario  nascitur;  quarum 
rerum  facultatem  infimo  cuique  non  nisi  quaesita  labore  merces 
suppeditat.  Esto  igitur,  ut  opifex  atque  herus  libere  in  idem 
placitum,  ac  nominatim  in  salarii  modum  consentiant :  subest 
tamen  semper  aliquid  ex  justitia  naturali,  idque  libera  paciscen- 
tium  voluntate  majus  et  antiquius,  scilicit  alendo  opifici,  frugi 
quidem  et  bene  morato,  baud  imparem  esse  mercedem  oportere. 
Quod  si  necessitate  opifex  coactus,  aut  malipejoris  metu  permotus 
duriorem  conditionem  accipiat,  quae,  etiamsi  nolit,  accipienda  sit, 
quod  a  domino  vel  a  redemptore  operum  imponitur,  istud  quidem 
est  subire  vim,  cui  justitia  reclamat. 

Verumtamen  in  his  similibusque  caussis,  quales  illae  sunt  in 
unoquoque  genere  artificii  quota  sit  elaborandum  hora,  quibus 
praesidiis  valetudini  maxime  in  officinis  cavendum,  ne  magistratus 
inferat  sese  importunius,  praesertim  cum  adjuncta  tam  varia  sint 
rerum,  temporum,  locorum,  satius  erit  eas  res  judicio  reservare 
collegiorum,  de  quibus  infra  dicturi  sumus,  aut  aliam  inire  viam, 
qua  rationes  mercenariorum,  uti  par  est,  salvae  sint,  accedente,  si 
res  postulaverit,  tutela  praesidioque  reipublicae. 

Mercedem  si  ferat  opifex  satis  amplam  ut  ea  se  uxoremque 
et  liberos  tueri  commodum  queat,  facile  studebit  parsimoniae,  si 
sapit,  efiicietque,  quod  ipsa  videtur  natura  monere,  ut  detractis 
sumptibus,  aliquid  etiam  redundet,  quo  sibi  liceat  ad  modicum 
censum  pervenire.  Neque  enim  ef&caci  ratione  dirimi  caussam, 
de  qua  agitur,  posse  vidimus,  nisi  hoc  sumpto  et  constituto,  jus 
privatorum  bonorum  sanctum  esse  oportere.  Quamobrem  favere 
huic  jurileges  debent,  et  quoad  potest,  providere  ut  quamplurimi 
ex  multitudine  rem  habere  malint.  Quo  facto,  praeclarae  utili- 
tates  consecuturae  sunt ;  ac  primum  certe  aequior  partitio 
bonorum.  Vis  enim  commutationum  civilium  in  duas  civium 
classes  divisit  urbes,  immenso  inter  utrumque  discrimine  inter- 
jecto.  Ex  una  parte  factio  praepotens,  quia  praedives  :  quae  cum 
operum  et  mercaturae  universum  genus  sola  potiatur,  facultatem 
omnem  copiarum  effectricem  ad  sua  commoda  ac  rationes  trahit, 
atque  in  ipsa  administratione  reipublicae  non  parum  potest.     Ex 


752  Document. 

altera  inops  atque  infirma  multitudo,  exulcerato  animo  et  ad 
turbas  semper  parato.  Jamvero  si  plebis  excitetur  industria  in 
spem  adipiscendi  quippiam,  quod  solo  contineatur,  sensim  fiet  ut 
alter  ordo  evadet  finitimus  alteri,  sublato  inter  summas  divitias 
summamque  egestatem  discrimine — Praeterea  rerum,  quas  terra 
gignit,  major  est  abundantia  futura.  Homines  enim,  cum  se 
elaborare  sciunt  in  sue,  alacritatem  adhibent  studiumque  longe 
majus :  immo  prorsus  adamare  terram  instituunt  sua  manu 
percultam,  unde  non  alimenta  tantum,  sed  etiam  quamdam 
copiam  et  sibi  et  suis  expectant.  Ista  voluntatis  alacritas,  nemo 
non  videt  quam  valde  conferat  ad  ubertatem  fructuum,  augen- 
dasque  divitias  civitatis.  Ex  quo  illud  tertio  loco  manabit 
commodi,  ut  qua  in  civitate  homines  editi  susceptique  in  lucem 
sint,  ad  eam  facile  retineantur  :  neque  enim  patriam  cum  externa 
regione  commutarent,  si  vitae  degendae  tolerabilem  daret  patria 
facultatem.  Non  tamen  ad  haec  commoda  perveniri  nisi  ea  con- 
ditione  potest,  ut  privatus  census  ne  exhauriatur  immanitate 
tributorum  et  vectigalium.  Jus  enim  possidendi  privatim  bona 
cum  non  sit  lege  hominum  sed  natura  datum,  non  ipsum  abolere, 
sed  tantummodo  ipsius  usum  temperare  et  cum-  communi  bono 
componere  auctoritas  publica  potest.  Faciat  igitur  injuste  atque 
inhumane,  si  de  bonis  privatorum  plus  aequo,  tributorum  nomine, 
detraxerit. 

Postremo  domini  ipsique  opifices  multum  hac  in  caussa  pos- 
sunt,  iis  videlicet  institutis,  quorum  ope  et  opportune  subveniatur 
indigentibus,  et  ordo  alter  proprius  accedat  ad  alteram.  Nume- 
randa  in  hoc  genere  sodalitia  ad  suppetias  mutuo  ferendas :  res 
varias,  privatorum  providentia  constitutas,  ad  cavendum  opifici, 
item  que  orbitati  uxoris  et  liberorum,  si  quid  subitum  ingruat,  si 
quid  subitum  ingruat,  si  debilitas  afflixerit,  si  quid  humanitas 
accidat :  instituti  patronatus  pueris,  puellis,  adolescentibus  natu- 
que  majoribus  tutandis.  Sed  principem  locum  obtinent  sodalitia 
artificum,  quorum  complexu  fere  cetera  continentur.  Fabrum 
corporatorum  apud  majores  nostros  diu  bene  facta  constitere. 
Eevera  non  modo  utilitates  praeclaras  artificibus,  sed  artibus 
ipsis,  quod  perplura  monumenta  testantur,  decus  atque  incre- 
mentum  peperere.  Eruditiore  nunc  aetate,  moribus  novis,  auctis 
etiam  rebus  quas  vita  quotidian  a  desiderat,  profecto  sodalitia 
opificum  flecti  ad  praesentem  usum  necesse  est.  Vulgo  coiri 
ejus  generis  societates,  sive  totas  ex  opificibus  conflatas,  sive 
ex  utroque  ordine  mixtas,  gratum  est :  optandum  vero  ut  numero 


J 


l)ocument.  753 

et  actuosa  virtute  crescant.  Etsi  vero  de  iis  non  semel  verba 
fecimus,  placet  tamen  hoc  loco  ostendere,  eas  esse  valde  oppor- 
tunas,  et  jure  suo  coalescere  :  item  qua  illas  disciplina  uti,  et  quid 
agere  oporteat. 

Virium  suarum  explorata  exiguitas  impellit  hominem  atque 
hortatur,  ut  opem  sibi  alienam  velit  adjungere.  Sacrarum  litte- 
rarum  est  ilia  sententia  :  Melius  est  duos  esse  shmol,  quam  unum  : 
habent  enim  emolumentum  societatis  suae.  Si  unus  ceciderit,  ah 
altera  fulcietur.  Vae  soli:  quia  cum  ceciderit  non  habet  suble- 
vantem  se}  Atque  ilia  quoque :  Frater,  qui  adjuvaiur  a  fraire, 
quasi  civitas  firma?  Hac  homo  propensione  naturali  sicut  ad 
conjunctionem  ducitur  congregationemque  civilem,  sic  et  alias 
cum  civibus  inire  societates  expetit,  exiguas  illas  quidem  nee 
perfectas,  sed  societates  tamen.  Inter  has  et  magnam  illam 
societatem  ob  ditferentes  caussas  proximas  interest  plurimum. 
Finis  enim  societati  eivili  propositus  pertinet  ad  universos, 
quoniam  communi  continetur  bono :  cujus  omnes  et  singulos 
proportione  compotes  esse  jus  est.  Quare  appellatur  imblica  quia 
per  earn  homines  sibi  invicem  communicant  in  una  republica  con- 
stituenda.^  Contra  vero,  quae  in  ejus  velut  sinu  junguntur 
societates,  privatae  habentur  et  sunt,  quia  videlicet  illud,  quo 
proxime  spectant,  privata  utilitas  est  ad  solos  pertinens  conso- 
ciatos.  Privata  autem  societas  est,  quae  ad  aliquod  negotium 
privatu7n  exercendum  conjungitur,  sicut  quod  duo  vel  tres  socie- 
tatem ineunt,  ut  simul  negotientur.*  Nunc  vero  quamquam 
societates  privatae  existunt  in  civitate,  ejusque  sunt  velut  partes 
totidem,  tamen  universe  ac  per  se  non  est  in  potestate  reipublicae 
ne  existant  prohibere,  Privatas  enim  societates  inire  concessum 
est  homini  jure  naturae  :  est  autem  ad  praesidium  juris  naturalis 
instituta  civitas,  non  ad  interitum  :  eaque  si  civium  coetus  sociari 
vetuerit,  plane  secum  pugnantia  agat,  propterea  quod  tarn  ipsa 
quam  coetus  privati  uno  hoc  e  principio  nascuntur  quod  homines 
sunt  natura  congregabiles. 

Incidunt  aliquando  tempora  cum  ei  generi  communitatum 
rectum  sit  leges  obsistere :  scilicet  si  quidquam  ex  instituto  per- 
sequantur,  quod  cum  probitate,  cum  justitia,  cum  reipublicae 
salute  aperte  dissideat.     Quibus  in  caussis  jure  quidem  potestas 


1  Eccl.  iv.  9-12.  2  Prov.  xviii.  19. 

^  S.  Thorn.     Contra  impiujnantes  Dei  cultum  et  religionein,  cap.  ii. 

VOL.  XII.  3  B 


754  Bocument. 

publica,  quo  minus  illae  coalescant,  impediet :  jure  etiam  dis- 
solvet  coalitas:  summam  tamen  adhibeat  cautionem  necesse 
est,  .ne  jura  civium  migrare  videatur,  neu  quidquam  per 
speciem  utilitates  publicae  statuat  quod  ratio  non  probet. 
Eatenus  enim  obtemperandum  legibus,  quoad  cum  recta  ratione 
adeoque  cum  lege  Dei  sempiterna  consentiant.^ 

Sodalitates  varias  hie  reputamus  animo  et  collegia  et  ordines 
religiosos,  quos  Ecclesiae  auctoritas  et  pia  christianorum  voluntas 
genuerant  :  quanta  vero  cum  salute  gentis  humanae,  usque  ad 
nostram  memoriam  historia  loquitur.  Societates  ejusmodi,  si 
ratio  sola  dijudicet,  cum  initae  honesta  caussa  sint,  jure  naturali 
initas  apparet  fuisse.  Qua  vero  parte  religionem  attingunt,  sola 
est  Ecclesiae  cui  juste  pareant.  Non  igitur  in  eas  quicquam  sibi 
arrogare  juris,  nee  earum  ad  se  traducere  administration  em  recte 
possunt  qui  praesint  civitati :  eas  potius  officium  est  reipublicae 
vereri,  conservare,  et,  ubi  res  postulaverint,  injuria  prohibere. 
Quod  tamen  longe  aliter  fieri  hoc  praesertim  tempore  vidimus. 
Multis  locis  communitates  hujus  generis  respublica  violavit,  ac 
multiplici  quidem  injuria  :  cum  et  civilium  legum  nexu  devinxerit, 
et  legitimo  jure  personae  moralis  exuerit,  et  fortunis  suis  despo- 
liarit,  Quibus  in  fortunis  suum  habeat  EcClesia  jus,  suum 
singuli  sodales,  item  qui  eas  certae  cuidam  causae  addixerant,  et 
quorum  essent  commodo  ac  solatio  addictae.  Quamobrem  tem- 
perare  animo  non  possumus  quin  spoliationes  ejusmodi  tarn 
injustas  ac  perniciosas  conqueramus,  eo  vel  magis  quod  societatibus 
catholicorum  virorum,  pacatis  iis  quidem  et  in  omnes  partes 
utilibus,  iter  praecludi  videmus,  quo  tempore  edicitur,  utique  coire 
in  societatem  per  leges  licere  :  eaque  facultas  large  revera  homi- 
nibus  permittitur  consilia  agitantibus  religion!  simul  ac  reipublicae 
perniciosa. 

Profecto  consociationumdiversissimarum  maxima  ex  opificibus, 
longe  nunc  major,  quam  alias  frequentia.  Plures  unde  ortum 
ducant,  quid  velint,  qua  grassentur  via,  non  est  hujus  loci  quaerere. 
Opinio  tamen  est,  multis  confirmata  rebus,  praeesse  ut  plurimum 
occultiores  auctores,  eosdemque  disciplinam  adhibere  non  chris- 
tiano  nomini,  non  saluti  civitatum  consentaneam  :  occupataque 


1  Lex  hitmana  in  tantiun  lidbet  rationem  legiSf  in  quantum  est  secundum 
rutionem  rectam,  et  secundum  Jioc  mmd/estimi,  est  quod  a  lege  aeterna  derivatur. 
In  quantum  vero  a  ratione  recedit,  sic  dicitur  lex  iniqua^  et  sic  non  liahet 
rationem  lerjis^  sed  mayis  violentiae  cujusdam  (S.  Thorn.  Suinm.  Theol.  i.-ii., 
Quaest.  xiii.,  a.  iii.) 


Document.  755 

eJBficiendorum  operum  universitate,  id  agere  ut  qui  secum  con- 
sociari  recusarint,  luere  poenas  egestate  cogantur.  Hoc  rerum 
statu,  alterutrum  malint  artifices  christiani  oportet,  aut  nomen 
collegiis  dare,  unde  periculum  religioni  extimescendum  :  aut  sua 
inter  se  sodalitia  condere,  viresque  hoc  pacto  conjungere,  quo  se 
animose  queant  ab  ilia  injusta  ac  non  ferenda  oppressione  redi- 
mere.  Omnino  optari  hoc  alterum  necesse  esse,  quam  potest 
dubitationem  apud  eos  habere,  qui  nolint  summum  hominis  bonum 
in  praesentissimum  discrimen  conjicere  ? 

Valde  quidem  laudandi  complures  ex  nostris,  qui  probe  per- 
specto  quid  a  se  tempora  postulent,  experiuntur  ac  tentant  qua 
ratione  proletaries  ad  meliora  adducere  honestis  artibus  possint. 
Quorum  patrocinio  suscepto,  prosperitatem  augere  cum  domes- 
ticam  turn  singulorum  student  :  item  moderari  cum  aequitate 
vincula,  quibus  invicem  artifices  et  domini  continentur :  alere  et 
confirmare  in  utrisque  memoriam  ofiicii  atque  evangelicorum  cus- 
todiam  praeceptorum  ;  quae  quidem  praecepta,  hominem  ab 
intemperantia  revocando,  excedere  modum  vetant,  personarumque 
et  rerum  dissimillimo  statu  harmoniam  in  civitate  tuentur.  Hac 
de  caussa  unum  in  locum  saepe  convenire  videmus  viros  egregios, 
quo  communicent  consilia  invicem,  viresque  jungant,  et  quid 
maxime  expedire  videatur,  consultent.  Alii  varium  genus  artifi- 
cum  opportuna  copulare  societate  student ;  consilio  ac  re  juvant, 
opus  ne  desit  honestum  ac  fructuosum,  provident.  Alacritatem 
addunt  ac  patrocinium  impertiunt  Episcopi  :  quorum  auctoritate 
auspiciisque  plures  ex  utroque  ordine  cleri,  quae  ad  excolendum 
animum  pertinent,  in  consociatis  sedulo  curant.  Denique  catho- 
lici  non  desunt  copiosis  divitiis,  sed  mercenariorum  velut  consortes 
voluntarii,  qui  constituere  lateque  fundere  grandi  pecunia  conso- 
ciationes  adnitantur :  quibus  adjuvantibus  facile  opifici  liceat  non 
modo  commoda  praesentia,  sed  etiam  honestae  quietis  futurae 
fiduciam  sibi  labore  quaerere.  Tam  multiplex  tamque  alacris 
industria  quantum  attulerit  rebus  communibus  boni  plus  est  cog- 
nitum,  quam  ut  attineat  dicere.  Hinc  jam  bene  de  reliquo 
tempore  sperandi  auspicia  sumimus,  modo  societates  istiusmodi 
constanter  incrementa  capiant,  ac  prudenti  temperatione  consti- 
tuantur.  Tutetur  hos  respublica  civium  coetus  jure  sociatos : 
ne  trudat  tamen  sese  in  eorum  intimam  rationem  ordinemque 
vitae  :  vitalis  enim  motus  cietur  ab  interiore  principio,  ac  facillime 
sane  pulsu  eliditur  externo. 

Est  profecto   temperatio   ac  diciplina   prudens  ad  earn  rem 


756  Document. 

necessaria  ut  consensus  in  agendo  fiat  conspiratioque  voluntatum. 
Proinde  si  libera  civibus  coeundi  facultas  est,  ut  profecto  est,  jus 
quoque  esse  oportet  earn  libere  optare  disciplinam,  easque 
leges  quae  maxime  conducere  ad  id,  quod  propositum  est, 
judicentur. 

Earn,  quae  memorata  est  temperationem  disciplinamque  col- 
legiorum  qualem  esse  in  partibus  suis  in  singulis  oporteat,  decern i 
certis  definitisque  regulis  non  censemus  posse,  cum  id  potius 
statuendum  sit  ex  ingenio  cujusque  gentis,  ex  periclitatione  et 
usu,  ex  genere  atque  efficientia  operum,  ex  amplitudine  commer- 
ciorum,  aliisque  rerum  ac  temporum  adjunctis,  quae  suntprudenter 
ponderanda.  Ad  summam  rem  quod  spectat,  haec  tamquam  lex 
generalis  ac  perpetua  sanciatur,  ita  constitui  itaque  gubernari 
opificum  collegia  oportere,  ut  instrumenta  suppeditent  aptissima 
maximeque  expedita  ad  id  quod  est  propositum,  quodque  in  eo 
consistit  ut  singuli  e  societate  incrementum  bonorum  corporis, 
animi,  rei  familiaris,  quoad  potest,  assequantur.  Perspicuum 
vero  est,  ad  perfectionem  pietatis  et  morum  tamquam  ad  caussam 
praecipuam  spectari  oportere  :  eaque  potissimum  caussa  disci- 
plinam socialem  penitus  dirigendam.  Secus  enim  degenerarent  in 
aliam  formam,  eique  generi  collegiorum,  in  quibus  nulla  ratio 
religionis  haberi  solet,  baud  sane  multum  praestarent.  Ceterum 
quid  prosit  opifici  rerum  copiam  societate  quaesisse,  si  ob  inopiam 
cibi  sui  de  salute  periclitetur  anima  ?  Quid  prodest  homini,  si 
mundum  universum  lucretur,  animae  vero  suae  detrimentum 
patiatur}  Hanc  quidem  docet  Christus  Dominus  velut  notam 
habendam,  qua  ab  ethnico  distinguatur  homo  christianus  :  Hacc 
omnia  gentes  inquiru7it  .  .  .  quaerite  primum  regnum  Dei  et 
justitiam  ejus,  et  haec  omnia  adjicientur  vobis.'  Sumptis  igitur  a 
Deo  principiis,  plurimum  eruditioni  religiosae  tribuatur  loci,  ut 
sua  singuli  adversus  Deum  officia  cognoscant '  quid  credere 
oporteat,  quid  sperare  atque  agere  salutis  sempiternae  caussa, 
probe  sciant  :  curaque  praecipua  adversus  opinionum  errores 
variasque  corruptelas  muniantur.  Ad  Dei  cultum  studiumque 
pietatis  excitetur  opifex,  nominatim  ad  religionem  dierum  festorum 
colendam.  Vereri  diligereque  communem  omnium  parentem 
tEcclesiam  condiscat :  itemque  ejus  et  obtemperare  praeceptis  e 
sacramenta  frequentare,  quae  sunt  ad  expiandas  animi  labes 
sanctitatemque  comparandam  instrumenta  divina. 

1  Matth.  xvi.  26. 
2Matth.vi.  32,33. 


Document.  757 

Socialium  legum  posito  in  religione  fundamento,  pronum  est 
iter  ad  stabiliendas  sociorum  rationes  mutuas,  ut  convictus  quietus 
ac  res  florentes  consequantur.  Munia  sodalitatum  dispartienda 
sunt  ad  communes  rationes  accommodate,  atque  ita  quidem  ut 
consensum  ne  minuat  dissimilitudo.  Officia  partiri  intelligenter, 
perspicueque  definiri,  plurimum  ob  banc  caussam  interest,  ne  cui 
fiat  injuria.  Commune  administretur  integre,  ut  ex  indigentia 
singulorum  praefiniatur  opitulandi  modus  :  jura  officiaque  domi- 
norum  cum  juribus  officiisque  opificum  apte  conveniant.  Si  qui 
ex  alterutro  ordine  violatum  se  ulla  re  putarit,  nihil  optandum 
magis,  quam  adesse  ejusdem  corporis  viros  prudentes  atque 
integros,  quorum  arbitrio  litem  dirimi  leges  ipsae  sociales  jubeant. 
Illud  quoque  magnopere  providendum  ut  copia  operis  nullo 
tempore  deficiat  opificem,  utque  vectigal  suppeditet,  unde  neces- 
sitati  singulorum  subveniatur  nee  solum  in  subitis  ac  fortuitis 
industriae  casibus,  sed  etiam  cum  valetudo,  aut  senectus,  aut 
infortunium  quemquam  oppressit. 

His  legibus,  si  modo  voluntate  accipiantur,  satis  erit 
tenuiorem  commodis  ac  saluti  consultum  :  consociationes  autem 
catholicorum  non  minimum  ad  prosperitatem  momenti  in  civitate 
sunt  habiturae.  Ex  eventis  praeteritis  non  temere  providemus 
futura.  Truditur  enim  aetas  aetate,  sed  rerum  gestarum  mirae 
sunt  similitudines,  qui  reguntur  providentia  Dei,  qui  continua- 
tionem  seriemque  rerum  ad  earn  caussam  moderatur  ac  flectic, 
quam  sibi  in  procreatione  generis  humani  praestituit.  Chris- 
tianis  in  prisca  Ecclesiae  adolescentis  aetate  probro  datum 
accepimus,  quod  maxima  pars  stipe  precaria  aut  opere  faciendo 
victitarent.  Sed  destituti  ab  opibus  potentiaque,  pervicere,  tamen 
ut  gratiam  sibi  locupletium,  ac  patrocinium  potentium  adjun- 
gerent.  Cernere  licebat  impigros,  laboriosos,  pacificos,  justitiae 
maximeque  caritatis  in  exemplum  retinentes.  Ad  ejusmodi 
vitae  morumque  spectaculum,  evanuit  omnis  praejudicata  opinio, 
obtrectatio  obmutuit  malevolorum,  atque  inveteratae  super- 
stitionis  commenta  veritati  christianae  pauUatim  cessere.  De  statu 
opificum  certatur  in  praesens  :  quae  certatio  ration  e  dirimatur 
an  secus,  plurimum  interest  reipublicae  in  utramque  partem. 
Eatione  autem  facile  dirimetur  ab  artificibus  christianis,  si 
societate  conjuncti  ac  prudentibus  auctoribus  usi,  viam  inierint 
eamdem  quam  patres  ac  maiores  singulari  cum  salute  et  sua  et 
publica  tenuerunt.  Etenim  quantumvis  magna  in  homine  vis 
opinionum    praejudicatarum    cupiditatumque    sit;    tanien    nisi 


758  .  Bocument. 

sensum  honesti  prava  voluntas  obstupefecerit,  futura  est  bene- 
volentia  civium  in  eos  sponte  propensior,  quos  industries  ac 
modestos  cognoverint,  quos  aequitatem  lucro,  religionem  officii 
rebus  omnibus  constiterit  anteponere.  Ex  quo  illud  etiam 
consequetur  commodi,  quod  spes  et  facultas  sanitatis  non 
minima  suppeditabitur  opificibus  iis,  qui  vel  omnino  despecta 
fide  Christiana,  vel  alienis  a  professione  moribus  vivant.  Isti 
quidem  se  plerumque  intelligunt  falsa  spe  siraulataque  rerum 
specie  deceptos.  Sentiunt  enim,  sese  apud  cupidos  dominos  valde 
inhumane  tractari,  nee  fieri  fere  "pluris  quam  quantum  pariant 
operando  lucri :  quibus  autem  sodalitatibus  implicati  sunt,  in  iis 
pro  caritate  atque  amore  intestinas  discordias  existere,  petulantis 
atque  incredulae  paupertatis  perpetuas  comites.  Fracto  animo, 
extenuato  corpore,  quam  valde  se  multi  vellent  e  servitute  tarn 
humili  vindicare :  nee  tamen  audent,  seu  quod  hominum  pudor, 
seu  metus  inopiae  prohibeat.  Jaravero  his  omnibus  mirum 
quantum  prodesse  ad  salutem  collegia  catholicorum  possunt,  si 
haesitantes  ad  sinum  suum,  expediendis  difificultatibus,  invitarint, 
si  resipiscentes  in  fidem  tutelamque  suam  acceperint. 

Habetis,  Venerabiles  Fratres,  quos  et  qua  ratione  elaborare 
in  caussa  perdifficili  necesse  sit.  Accingendum  ad  suas  cuique 
partes,  et  maturrime  quidem,  ne  tantae  jam  molis  incommodum 
fiat  insanabilius  cunctatione  medicinae.  Adhibeant  legum  insti- 
tutorumque  providentiam,  qui  gerunt  respublicas  :  sua  memine- 
rint  officia  locupletes  et  domini :  enitantur  ratione,  quorum  res 
agitur,  proletarii  :  cumque  religio,  ut  initio  diximus,  malum 
pellere  funditus  sola  possit,  illud  reputent  universi,  in  primis 
instaurari  mores  christianos  oportere,  sine  quibus  ea  ipsa  arma 
prudentiae,  quae  maxime  putantur  idonea,  parum  sunt  ad  salutem 
valitura.  Ad  Ecclesiam  quod  spectat,  desiderari  operam  suam 
nullo  tempore  nulloque  modo,  sinet,  tanto  plus  allatura  adju- 
menti,  quanto  sibi  major  in  agendo  libertas  contigerit :  idque 
nominatim  intelligant,  quorum  munus  est  saluti  publicae  con- 
sulere.  Intendant  omnes  animi  industriaeque  vires  ministri 
sacrorum  :  vobisque,  Venerabiles  Fratres,  auctoritate  praeeunti- 
bus  et  exemplo,  sumpta  ex  evangelio  documenta  vitae  hominibus 
ex  omni  ordine  inculcare  ne  desinant :  omni  qua  possunt  ope  pro 
salute  populorum  contendant,  potissimumque  studeant  et  tueri  in 
se,  et  excitare  in  aliis,  summis  juxta  atque  infimis,  omnium 
dominam  ac  reginam  virtutum,  caritatem.  Optata  quippe  salus 
expectanda  praecipue  est  ex  magna  effusione  caritatis  :  christian  ae 


Notices  of  Books.  759 

caritatis  intelligimus,  quae  totius  Evangelii  compendiaria  lex  est, 
quaeque  semetipsam  pro  aliorum  commodis  semper  devovere 
parata,  contra  saeculi  insolentiam  atque  immoderatum  amorem 
sui  certissima  est  horaini  antidotus  :  cujus  virtutis  partes  ac 
lineamenta  divina  Paulus  Apostolus  iis  verbis  expressit  ;  Caritas 
j^atiens  est,  henigna  est,  non  quaerlt  quae  sua  sunt:  omnia suffert  ; 
oinnia  sustinet} 

Divinorum  munerum  auspicem  ac  benevolentiae  Nostrae  testem 
vobis,  singulis,  Venerabiles  Fratres,  et  Clero  populoque  vestro 
apostolicam  benedictionem  peramanter  in  Domino  impertimus. 

Datum  Romae  apud  S.  Petrum  die  XV  Mali  An.  MDCCCXCI, 
Pontificatus  Nostri  Decimoquarto. 

Leo  pp.  XIII, 


IRoticee  of  Booft6. 


Triumphalia  Chronologica  Monasterii  Sanctae  Crucis 

IN   HiBERNIA. 

De  Cisterciensium  Hibernorum  viris  Illustribus. 
Edited  with  a  Translation,  Notes,  and  Ilhistrations,  by 
Eev.  Denis  Murphy,  S.J.,  M.K.I. A. 

The  work  named  above — a  history  of  the  celebrated  monas- 
tery of  Holy  Cross,  and  of  the  Cistercian  Order  in  Ireland,  has 
just  been  published.  The  work  is  edited,  with  an  Introduction, 
Translation,  and  Notes,  by  Eev.  Denis  Murphy,  S.J.  Father 
Murphy  has  made  for  himself  a  name  that  is  certain  to  live  as  a 
distinguished  Irish  historian  and  archaeologist.  His  name  on  the 
title-page  of  a  book  is  a  guarantee  that  the  work  is  well  done, 
and  is  a  valuable  one.  And  at  a  time  when  non-Catholics, 
almost  without  number,  are  investigating  the  ancient  ruins  of 
our  country,  and  studying  our  ancient  manuscripts,  in  order  to 
draw  from  them  arguments  against  the  ancient  faith  of  our 
people,  the  work  of  scholars  like  Father  Murphy  deserves  from 

1  Cor.  xiii,  4,  7. 


760  Notices  of  Boohs. 

Catholics  special  commendation  and  encouragement.  He  is 
studying  Irish  archaeology  and  history  to  find  out  and  sustain 
the  truth,  and  the  work  now  before  us  gives  him  a  new  claim  on 
the  gratitude  of  Irish  Catholics. 

This  work  is  a  translation  of  a  curious  old  Latin  manu- 
script now  in  the  possession  of  the  Most  Rev.  Dr.  Croke, 
Archbishop  of  Cashel.  It  was  written  by  the  Rev.  Brother 
John  Hartry,  a  Cistercian  monk,  a  native  of  Waterford, 
in  1640.  The  first  part  of  the  MS.  gives  the  history  of 
Holy  Cross,  up  to  the  time  of  its  suppression.  The  second 
part  gives  the  history  of  a  number  of  illustrious  Irish  members 
of  the  Cistercian  Order.  In  this  second  part  will  be  found 
recorded  the  sufferings  endured  by  so  many  of  our  countrymen 
in  those  "  dark  and  evil  days  "  when  our  holy  religion  was 
banned,  and  its  professors  done  to  death  in  the  name  of  law  in 
Ireland,  and  that  for  no  other  cause  than  their  attachment  to 
this  ancient  faith.  The  Latin  original  is  given  on  one  page,  and 
Father  Murphy's  translation  on  the  opposite  page.  He  has  also 
added  some  footnotes  and  appendices,  which  greatly  enhance  the 
value  of  the  book. 

In  the  Introduction,  extending  over  eighty  pages.  Father 
Murphy  gives  a  history  of  the  rise  and  spread  of  the 
Cistercian  Order  in  Ireland,  and  of  the  principal  houses  of 
the  Order,  dwelling  on  the  great  monastery  of  Holy  Cross.  He 
gives  also  a  very  interesting  sketch  of  the  celebrated  relic  of  the 
True  Cross,  formerly  kept  at  Holy  Cross  and  now  in  the 
possession  of  the  Ursuline  nuns  of  Blackrock,  Co.  Cork.  This 
Introduction  is  a  very  valuable  addition  to  our  ecclesiastical 
history.  The  work  is  beautifully  illustrated.  Indeed  some  of 
the  plates  are  most  elaborate  works  of  art.  The  coloured  title- 
page  is  especially  interesting,  and  all  the  plates,  down  to  the 
most  minute  details,  are  done  at  home,  and  are  highly  creditable 
to  our  Irish  artists.  The  book  is  splendidly  got  up,  resembling 
in  its  general  appearance  the  volumes  of  the  Irish  Archaeo- 
logical Society.  It  is  a  mine  of  curious  and  interesting 
information,  and,  at  the  low  price  of  10s.,  it  must  secure,  as  it 
well  deserves  to  secure,  a  very  wide  circle  of  readers.  We 
sincerely  congratulate  Father  Murphy  on  the  signal  service  he 
has  done  to  our  ecclesiastical  literature  by  the  publication  of  this 
most  curious  and  interesting  book. 

J.  M. 


Notices  of  Boohs.  761 

Life  of  Father  John  Curtis,  of  the  Society  of  Jesus. 

By  the  author  of  *'  Tyborne,"  &c.      Eevised  by  Father 

Edward  Purbick,  S.J.     Dublin  :  M.  H.  Gill  &  Son. 

This  is  a  very  tender  and  touching  record  of  a  very  gentle 
and  holy  life.  It  is  true,  in  the  words  of  the  biographer,  that  the 
life  of  Father  Curtis  was  an  "  uneventful"  one,  in  the  ordinary 
acceptation  of  the  term  ;  but  yet  it  was  a  life  of  more  than  usual 
activity,  and  was  fruitful  of  great  blessings  to  hundreds  and 
hundreds  of  souls.  Father  Curtis  lived  through  a  lengthened 
period,  and  was  a  witness  of  many  stirring  changes  in  his 
prolonged  career.  He  was  born  in  1794,  and  Hved  on,  in  the 
complete  enjoyment  of  all  his  mental  faculties  till  the  close  of  the 
year  1885,  having  reached  the  truly  patriarchal  age  of  ninety-one 
years,  seventy  of  which  were  passed  in  the  illustrious  Order  of 
which  he  was  so  distinguished  an  ornament. 

His  priestly  career  was,  as  we  have  said,  a  singularly  active 
one.  He  was  chosen  by  his  superiors  for  all  the  prominent 
positions  in  the  houses  and  colleges  in  which  he  resided, 
and  was  for  several  years  superior  of  the  Order  in  this 
country.  Few  names  were  more  familiar  to  the  priests  and 
nuns  of  Ireland  than  was  that  of  this  learned  and  zealous 
Jesuit.  He  was  ever  ready  to  give  them  the  benefit  of 
his  great  experience  and  solid  judgment  on  many  intricate  points 
of  the  spiritual  life,  and  many  of  the  letters  preserved  in  the  little 
volume  now  before  us,  abound  with  comments  and  suggestions  of 
the  rarest  beauty  and  value.  His  discourses  at  the  retreats  of  the 
clergy  throughout  Ireland  were  always  prized  for  their  simplicity, 
their  earnestness,  and  sound  sense.  "Father  Curtis,"  says  his 
biographer,  ''had  never  been  what  is  understood  by  a  good 
preacher.  His  delivery  and  voice  were  unsuited  for  pulpit 
oratory ;  but  the  matter  of  his  sermons  was  always  solid  and 
beautiful,  and  many  bore  witness  to  the  lasting  effect  his  discourses 
had  on  them."  It  is  a  notable  incident  in  his  life  that  he 
conducted  a  week's  retreat  for  the  secular  clergy  of  Dublin  in 
Maynooth  College,  when  he  had  attained  his  seventy-ninth 
year. 

Notwithstanding  the  many  calls  upon  his  time  and  thoughts. 
Father  Curtis  was  able  to  accomplish  much  literary  work.  He 
translated  into  English  Father  Cepari's  Life  of  St.  Aloysius^  the 
French  treatise  of  Blessed  Grignon  de  Montfort  on  Devotion  to  the 
piessed  Virgin^  and  wrote  some  short  but  pithy  biographies  of 


762  Notices  of  Boohs. 

different  Jesuit  fathers.  His  book  on  the  Spiritual  Exercises  is 
well  known  in  these  countries,  and  is  replete  with  pious  and 
practical  suggestiveness.  Our  space  will  not  allow  a  more  detailed 
reference  to  this  very  interesting  ''  Life."  It  is  written  without 
pretentiousness,  and,  perhaps,  without  sufficient  regard  to 
methodical  arrangement ;  but  it  is  none  the  less  welcome  as  an 
affectionate  tribute  to  the  memory  of  a  revered  and  saintly  priest. 
Its  publishers  are  Gill  &  Son,  of  Dublin. 

J.  D. 

Theologia  Moealts  pee  Modum  Conferentiaeum. 
AuctoreP.  Bengamen  Elbel,  O.S.F.      Padertorn,  a.d.  1891. 

A  NEW  edition  of  the  above-named  excellent  work  is  issuing 
from  the  press  at  Padertorn.  The  character  of  Elbel  as  a  moral 
theologian  stands  deservedly  high.  His  work  was  first  published 
at  Prague,  in  1748.  It  has  retained  its  popularity  ever  since,  and 
the  edition  now  appearing  is  a  favourable  indication  of  the 
esteem  in  which  the  work  is  still  held.  The  work  is  arranged  in 
"  Conferences."  Each  conference  opens  with  a  clear,  correct, 
and  methodical  explanation  of  the  subject-matter.  This  is 
followed  by  a  discussion  of  a  number  of  practical  cases  illustrat- 
ing the  doctrine  and  principles  laid  down  in  the  Conference. 
This  arrangement  renders  the  book  a  very  useful  one  to  priests 
who  have  not  time  to  wade  through  extraneous  matter  when 
they  are  anxious  to  find  the  solution  of  a  practical  and,  perhaps, 
pressing  doubt.  The  new  edition  is  to  be  in  ten  parts,  five  of 
which  have  already  appeared.  The  type  and  paper  are  excellent, 
and  in  every  sense  the  new  edition  is  a  most  valuable  book. 

J.  M. 

Life  of  St.  Aloysius  Gonzaga,  S.J.  Translated  from  the 
work  of  Father  Virgilius  Cepari,  by  a  Priest  of  the  same 
Society.    Dublin :  M.  H.  Gill  &  Son. 

We  welcome  this  new  English  edition  of  a  valuable 
Italian  work.  It  contains  everything  of  interest  found  in  the 
original  work  of  Father  Cepari,  though  it  has  been  considerably 
abridged. 

Father  Cepari  was  an  intimate  friend  of  the  angelic  Saint 
Aloysius,  and  none  had  better  opportunities  of  giving  a 
graphic  description  of  the  saint,  or  of  appreciating  his 
great  sanctity.     The  large  circulation  the  work  has  met  with  in 


Notices  of  Books.  763 

Italy  is  the  best  proof  of  its  value.  This  new  English  edition, 
carefully  prepared  by  one  of  the  fathers  of  the  society,  is  pub- 
lished, neatly  bound,  at  Messrs.  Gill  &  Son,  for  one  shilling. 
It  will  be  a  valuable  acquisition  for  Catholic  families,  and  we 
trust  it  will  tend  to  spread  devotion  to  a  saint  already  held  in 
such  veneration  on  the  Continent. 

A  Christian  Apology.  By  Paul  Schanz,  D.D.  Translated 
by  the  Kev.  Michael  F.  Glancey  and  Kev.  Victor  J. 
Schobel,  D.D.     Dublin :  1891.     Vol.  II. 

The  second  volume  of  the  great  Apology  of  Dr.  Schanz  is  just 
out.  Like  its  predecessor,  it  reflects  the  highest  credit  upon  its 
author,  as  well  as  on  Father  Glancey  and  Dr.  Schobel,  who  has 
done  so  admirably  the  work  of  translation.  This  volume  deals 
principally  with  the  problems  arising  out  of  modern  Biblical 
criticism,  and  it  more  than  justifies  the  anticipations  excited  by 
the  first  volume.  It  goes  over  the  whole  range  of  difficulties 
raised  against  the  Christian  revelation  by  pseudo-science.  In 
the  opening  chapters  the  history  of  revelation  is  traced  both  in 
its  origin  and  all  through  those  corrupted  forms  in  which  frag- 
ments of  it  were  disguised  up  to  the  coming  of  our  Lord.  The 
relations  of  reason  and  revelation  are  traced  in  a  special 
and  most  interesting  chapter.  Next  come  the  criteria  of  reve- 
lation— miracles  and  prophecy — discussed  in  two  chapters,  in 
which  the  logical  mind  of  the  author,  and  his  great  store  of 
knowledge,  are  conspicuously  shown. 

The  chapters  on  the  inspiration  and  trustworthiness  of 
Scripture  are  perhaps  the  most  interesting  in  the  volume, 
and  no  one  can  read  them  without  feeling  how  unfair  was 
the  unfriendly  criticism  passed  on  the  first  volume  by  some 
writers  whose  zeal  seems  to  have  gone  beyond  their  knowledge. 
In  the  lucid  statements  of  doctrines  and  facts  given  in  this 
volume,  difficulties  are  removed  by  anticipation,  and  the  defender 
of  revelation  finds  in  it  ready  to  hand  arms  wherewith  to 
confront  his  foes.  No  priest  in  this  day  should  be  without  some 
such  book  ;  and  we  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  this  is  the 
best  of  the  kind  we  have  seen. 

J.M. 


764  Notices  of  Boohs. 

Life  and  Sceneey  in  Missouri.  Keminiscences  of  a 
Missionary  Priest.     Dublin  :  James  Duffy  &  Co. 

We  are  violating  no  secret  in  mentioning  that  the  author  of 
this  very  entertaining  little  volume  is  the  estimable  and  erudite 
pastor  of  Irishtown  parish,  Very  Eev.  Canon  O'Hanlon,  the 
well-known  compiler  of  the  Lives  of  the  Irish  Saints.  Canon 
O'Hanlon  spent  his  early  life  as  a  priest  in  the  archdiocese  of 
St.  Louis,  in  Missouri  State,  and  in  the  volume  now  before  us 
he  records  the  experiences  and  reminiscences  of  his  active  and 
zealous  missionary  career  during  those  years.  He  has  made  the 
record  extremely  interesting,  and  conveys  through  it  niuch 
novel  and  valuable  information  of  the  then  condition,  and  the 
subsequent  marvellous  development,  of  the  great  city  of  St. 
Louis — in  its  religious,  commercial,  and  political  belongings.  His 
descriptions  of  the  scenic  beauties  of  Missouri  are  very  graphic 
and  picturesque,  and  he  shows  a  thorough  familiarity  with  the 
ways  and  customs  of  the  people. 

The  book  has  naturally  much  to  say  of  the  illustrious  and 
singularly  gifted  prelate,  the  Most  Eev.  Dr.  Kenrick,  who  has 
directed  the  spiritual  affairs  of  St.  Louis  with  such  splendid 
success,  and  through  so  many  years  of  trials  and  vicissitudes. 
The  book  will,  on  that  account,  be  all  the  more  welcome 
just  now,  inasmuch  as  the  venerable  prelate  will  have  attained, 
during  this  year,  his  golden  jubilee  in  the  episcopacy,  and 
will  be  receiving  from  the  Catholics  of  America  their  affectionate 
tribute  of  congratulation  and  of  love.  The  incident  of  his 
Grace's  golden  jubilee  cannot  fail  to  be  of  interest  to  Irish- 
men here  at  home,  as  his  Grace  is  a  native  of  the  city  of 
Dublin,  and  has  always  shown  a  deep  concern  for  the  welfare 
of  the  land  of  his  birth.  Canon  O'Hanlon 's  recollections  and 
impressions  are  full  of  interest,  and  bring  the  venerated  and 
holy  prelate  vividly  before  the  eyes  of  his  readers.  We  cordially 
bespeak  for  Life  and  Scenery  in  Missouri  a  hearty  welcome, 
and  wish  for  it  a  large  and  a  speedy  success.  D.  J. 

The    Christian   Virgin,   in   her   Family  and   in   the 

V^ORLD :    HER  Virtues   and    her    Mission  at   the 

PRESENT  TIME.     London  :  Burns  &  Oates. 

The  author  of  this  book  has  chosen  to  conceal  her  name,  but 

it  would  appear  that  she  is  a  lady  of   the  world — young   and 

unmarried — who  has  felt  herself  impelled    to    ^ive  to    young 


Notices  of  Books.  765 

unmarried  females  like  herself  an  instructive  and  edifying  series 
of  chapters  on  virginity  in  the  world.  As  her  work  went  onward, 
she  submitted  it  to  the  judgment  and  correction  of  a  learned  and 
zealous  priest,  who  watched  its  development  with  careful  and 
assiduous  vigilance.  The  work,  when  completed,  was  placed 
before  the  auxiliary  Bishop  of  Lyons,  and  his  Lordship  has  spoken 
of  it  in  terms  of  unbounded  praise  and  admiration.  The  idea  of 
the  book  is  a  novel  one,  but  it  is  excellently  and  practically  carried 
out,  and  gives  evidence  of  intelligence,  earnestness,  and  practical 
piety.  The  main  object  of  the  w^ork  is  conveyed  in  the  question 
put  by  the  writer  in  her  "  Dedication  "  of  the  work  :  "  Does  it 
not  seem,"  she  asks,  "  as  if,  at  the  present  time,  nothing  would 
be  more  useful  than  the  establishment  of  a  secular  association  of 
virgins,  who,  loving  God  alone,  making  His  glory  their  aim,  and 
the  salvation  of  souls  their  ambition,  should  live  in  the  very 
midst  of  the  world  to  give  an  example  of  virtue,  and  rouse  all 
those  with  whom  they  are  thrown  to  fervour  ?  Might  not  such 
souls,  as  seed  cast  upon  the  earth,  do  much  good  among  the 
families  with  whom  they  associate?"  There  is  abundance  of 
useful  and  charitable  work  marked  out  in  this  volume  for  such  an 
association,  and  time  would  not  hang  heavily  on  the  members* 
hands,  if  the  programme  laid  down  for  observance  were  even 
partially  carried  out.  There  are  passages  of  genuine  eloquence 
and  impressiveness  throughout  the  volume,  and  the  translation 
appears  to  have  been  carefully  and  skilfully  rendered.  Towards 
the  close  of  the  book  there  is  a  series  of  very  fervent  and  devo- 
tional exercises.  The  book  bears  the  Nihil  obstat  of  Father 
Eobinson,  of  the  Oblates  of  St.  Charles,  and  the  Imprimatur  of 
the  Cardinal  Archbishop  of  Westminster.  It  is  issued  from  the 
active  presses  of  Burns  &  Gates,  of  London,  and  is  excellently 
produced. 
The  Ven.  Jean    Baptiste    Vianney,   Cube  d'Aes.    By 

Kathleen  O'Meara.    London:   18,  West-square,  S.E. 

There  are  few  lives  so  replete  with  practical  instruction  for 
the  zealous  priest  as  that  of  the  Venerable  Cure  d'Ars.  His 
perfect  humility  and  self-abnegation,  his  great  sanctity,  and  the 
untiring  charity  with  which  he  ministered  to  the  spiritual  and 
even  temporal  wants  of  all  who  sought  his  aid,  won  for  him  the 
heartfelt  love  and  veneration  of  hundreds  of  thousands  of  people 
from  all  parts  of  France.  The  throngs  of  people  from  all  parts 
that  crowded  to  his  confessional  bore  unmistakable  testimony  of 


766  Notices  of  Books, 

his  wisdom  as  a  spiritual  director.  His  admirers  were  from  all 
classes,  rich  and  poor,  learned  and  ignorant.  The  celebrated 
Dominican,  Pere  Lacordaire,  used  to  pride  himself  on  the  happy 
day  that  he  spent  with  the  venerable  Cure,  whom  he  always  spoke 
of  as  "a  saint."  Archbishop  Ullathorne  said  of  him  : — **  The 
Cure  d'Ars  gave  me  a  greater  impression  of  sanctity  than  any  man 
I  ever  met."  Though  in  delicate  health,  he  managed  even  in  his 
old  age  to  get  through  more  work  than  usually  falls  to  the  lot  of 
six  priests.  Taught  in  the  school  of  suffering,  both  spiritual  and 
temporal,  he  learned  to  pity  the  suffering  of  others  ;  and  though 
there  was  nothing  he  hated  so  much  as  sin,  he  loved  and  lived 
for  poor  sinners. 

The  above  life  by  Kathleen  O'Meara  gives  a  brief  and  concise 
account  of  his  life,  labours,  and  sufferings  from  his  birth  to  his 
death.  The  name  of  the  distinguished  authoress  is  a  sufficient 
comment  on  the  style.  It  is  only  a  hundred  pages,  yet  contains 
a  complete  epitome  of  his  life,  and  gives  a  great  deal  of  instruc- 
tive information.  The  interest  is  kept  up  all  through.  We  can 
heartily  recommend  it  to  all,  especially  to  those  whose  time  may 
be  so  occupied  as  to  prevent  them  entering  on  more  lengthy 
biographies.  M.  H. 

How  TO  GET  On.     By  Kev.  Bernard  Feeney,  Professor  in 

Mount  Angel  Seminary  and  College,  Oregon ;  author  of 

''Lessons   from   the   Passion,"    "Home    Duties,"    &c. 

With  Preface  by  Most  Eev.  W.  H.  Grass,  D.D.,  C.SS.E., 

Archbishop  of  Oregon.     New  York :  Benziger  Brothers. 

Father  Peeney  has  presented  us  in  this  volume  with  a  really 

admirable  and  valuable  work.     It  has  received  the  authoritative 

Imyrimatur  of  the  Archbishop  of  Oregon,  and  has  been  honoured  by 

his  Grace  with  the  special  favour  of  a  preface  from  his  pen.     The 

book,  though,  as  might  be  expected,  mainly  intended  for  American 

Catholics,  is  well  deserving  of  a  wider  extension,  and  will  not  fail 

to  be  a  great  influence  for  good  wherever  it  finds  its  way.     The 

archbishop  in  his  preface,  having  alluded  to  some  of  the  agencies 

at  work  throughout  America  for  the  undermining  of  Christian 

teaching  and  morality,  proceeds  thus : — "  We,  therefore,  gladly 

welcome  any  and  every  work  that  may  serve  to  counteract  the 

dangerous  influences  abroad,  and  help  to  turn  to  great  and  noble 

purposes  the  splendid  energy  and  determination  so  natural  to 

the  American  character.     We  have  not  yet  met  any  book  which 


Notices  oj-  Boohs.  767 

seems  to  us  so  fitted  for  the  purpose  as  the  admirable  work  that 
has  been  kindly  submitted  to  our  criticism  by  the  rev.  author.  We, 
therefore,  gladly  welcome  this  work  of  Eev.  B.  Feeney,  entitled 
How  to  Get  On.  Its  very  title  appeals  strongly  to  that  natural  energy 
and  strength  of  will  so  characteristic  of  the  American  people,  and 
which,  if  properly  directed,  can  achieve  so  much.  Amidst  the 
Babel  of  voices  which  so  often  mislead  our  youth  to  prostituting 
its  fresh  energy  to  improper  ways  and  unbecoming  purposes,  this 
book  of  Eev.  B.  Feeney  speaks  the  splendid  words  of  truth.  The 
author  holds  up  to  our  people,  and  especially  to  our  youth,  the 
high  goal  which  all  can  reach."  After  such  a  glowing  com- 
mendation, from  such  a  high  and  competent  source,  no  words  of 
ours  are  needed  in  praise  of  Father  Feeney's  book.  It  deserves 
all  that  his  archbishop  says  of  it.  It  is  w^ritten  throughout  with 
vigour  and  sprightliness,  and  there  is  not  a  sentence  which  the 
least  cultured  reader  cannot  understand  and  appeciate.  We  need 
hardly  add,  that  the  clergy  are  perfectly  safe  in  using  every  effort 
to  promote  its  circulation. 

The    Blind    Apostle    and    Heroine   of    Charity.    By 
Kathleen  O'Meara.     London :  Burns  &  Oates. 

Kathleen  O'Meaea's  third  series  of  Bells  of  the  Sanctuanj  has 
appeared  in  a  neat  volume  of  280  pages,  containing  the  lives  of  a 
saintly  priest  and  one  of  those  holy  souls  that  may  well  be  styled 
earth's  angels  of  charity,  with  a  short  interesting  preface  by 
Cardinal  Manning. 

The  Blind  Apostle,  Gaston  De  Sequr,  belonged  to  a  distin- 
guished French  family,  and  was  born  about  seventy  years  ago .  His 
school  days  at  Fontenoy-aux-Eoses  do  not  seem  to  have  fore- 
shadowed his  future  sanctity,  though  his  letters  to  his  mother 
show  him  to  have  had  a  noble  heart.  Of  those  days  he  wrote  : 
— "We  were  not  impious  in  college,  but  we  were  utterly 
indifferent.  When  I  think  that  the  year  after  my  first  commu- 
nion nobody  suggested  to  us  that  we  should  make  our  Easter 
duty  !  It  took  me  fifteen  years  to  get  rid  of  the  baneful  effects 
of  the  impression  left  upon  my  mind  by  that  fatal  university." 
He  was  greatly  attached  to  his  grandmother,  Countess  Eostop- 
chine  ;  and  here  we  have  the  effect  of  good  example  brought  into 
striking  contrast  with  his  university  experiences,  for  it  was  to 
her  saintly  example  during  his  holidays  that  he  attributed  his  con- 
version. At  eighteen  he  made  a  general  confession,  and  gave  himself 


768  Notices  of  Books. 

up  to  divine  grace.  In  1841  he  was  sent  to  Eome,  Attache  to 
the  Embassy,  where  he  became  a  social  favourite  ;  but,  contrary 
to  all  expectation,  he  developed  a  vocation  for  the  priesthood. 
He  was  ordained  in  1847,  and  celebrated  his  first  mass  at  the 
high  altar  of  St.  Sulpice.  In  that  mass  he  asked  our  Blessed 
Lady  to  obtain  for  him  the  infirmity  that  would  be  most  cruci- 
fying to  himself  without  hindering  his  ministry.  That  prayer 
was  heard.  Eleven  years  later  he  was  a  prelate  in  Eome,  filling 
an  important  position  as  auditor  of  the  Kota.  He  enjoyed  the 
personal  favour  and  friendship  of  the  Pope  and  the  Emperor.  On 
the  1st  of  May  he  had  just  returned  from  a  session  of  the  Eota, 
when  suddenly  one  of  his  eyes  became  stone  blind.  A  year  later, 
when  taking  a  stroll  with  a  brother,  he  suddenly  exclaimed, 
"  I  am  blind."  He  had  lost  his  sight  completely.  He  received 
his  blindness  as  a  divine  vocation.  This  led  to  his  renunciation 
of  the  high  ofiQces  he  held,  and  to  his  taking  up  the  humbler  yet 
more  meritorious  labours  in  Paris  that  earned  for  him  the  title 
of  the  Blind  Apostle  or  the  Blind  Saint. 

M.  H. 

Life  of  St.  Aloysius  Gonzaga.     Edited  by  Rev.  J.  F. 
O'Conor,  S.J.     New  York. 

This  book  (about  170  pages)  is  the  joint  production  of  sixteen 
students  from  the  College  of  St.  Francis  Xavier,  New  York,  all 
under  the  age  of  nineteen  years.  Though  we  cannot  altogether 
endorse  the  rather  superlative  eulogies  of  the  American  press, 
considering  the  ages  of  the  compilers,  it  is,  no  doubt,  a  success. 
The  fact  that  it  has  already  reached  the  eighth  edition,  and  six 
thousand  copies  have  been  sold,  is  sufficient  proof  that  the 
simplicity  of  its  style  and  briefness  of  narration  have  not  pre- 
vented it  becoming  a  popular  work.  It  is  certainly  more  suited 
for  the  young  than  the  more  elaborate  lives  that  we  find  in  other 
languages.  The  language  is  simple,  concise,  and  in  some  parts 
poetical. 


THE  IRISH 

ECCLESIASTICAL  RECORD 


SEPTEMBEB,  1891. 


UNIVEKSAL  EXPECTATION  OF  THE  VIEGIN  AND 
THE  MESSIAS:  ITS  OEIGIN  AND  PKOGEESS. 

WHEN  God  created  our  first  parents  He  placed  them  in 
a  delightful  garden  called  Paradise.  In  that  garden 
He  planted  "  the  tree  of  life  " — a  plant  of  heavenly  origin, 
which  had  the  property  of  repelling  death,  as  the  laurel, 
according  to  the  ancients,  repels  lightning.  To  this  mysterious 
tree  was  attached  the  immortality  of  the  human  race ;  afar 
from  this  protecting  tree  death  recovered  his  prey,  and  man 
fell  back  from  the  height  of  heaven  into  his  miserable  coating 
of  clay.  Thus,  in  substance,  speaks  St.  Augustine  {Quaest. 
Vet  etNov.  Test.). 

Man  was  never  immortal  in  this  world  in  the  same 
way  as  the  pure  spirits,  for  a  body  formed  from  dust  must 
naturally  return  to  dust ;  he  was  so  by  a  favour  un- 
exampled. This  favour  was  granted  conditionally,  and 
exalted  him  and  maintained  him  in  a  position  very  superior 
to  his  proper  sphere.  Immortality  here  below  was  never 
acquired  by  man  by  right  of  birth ;  every  terrestrial  body 
must  perish  by  the  dissolution  of  its  parts,  unless  a  special 
will  of  the  Creator  opposes  this.  Such  divine  will  was 
manifested  in  favour  of  our  first  parents.  Satan,  however, 
attacked  man  in  his  strength,  and  Adam  fell  from  the  high 
position  to  which  he  had  been  exalted  into  the  frightful 
abyss  of  disobedience  and  ingratitude. 

No  one,  I  imagine,  will  call  in  question  that  God  acted 
upon  His  just  right  in  banishing  Adam  from  the  earthly 
VOL.  XII.  3  c 


770     Universal  Expectation  of  the  Virgin  and  the  Messias  : 

paradise  after  his  fall ;  but  banishment  involved  the  sentence 
of  death  upon  man  and  his  posterity;  without  the  tree 
of  life  he  was  no  longer  anything  better  than  a  frail  and 
perishable  creature,  subject  to  the  laws  which  govern 
created  bodies.  When  the  antidote  fails,  it  is  plain  that 
poison  kills.  Again  become  mortal,  Adam  begot  children 
like  himself :  the  children  must  follow  the  condition  to 
which  their  father  had  fallen.  In  this  God  did  the  human 
race  no  wrong :  we  are  mortal  by  our  nature ;  He  has  left 
us  such  as  we  were.  To  withdraw  a  gratuitous  favour, 
when  the  subject  of  such  favour  tears  up  with  his  own 
hands  the  deed  which  confers  it  upon  him,  is  not  cruelty;  it 
is  justice.  The  justice  of  God  demanded  a  punishment  pro- 
portioned to  the  offence,  and  there  was  no  hope  for  the 
human  race  if  a  divine  Being  had  not  undertaken  to  satisfy 
for  us  all.  Wherefore,  almost  simultaneously  with  the  fall  of 
our  first  parents  in  the  garden  of  Eden,  a  mysterious  pro- 
phecy, in  which  the  goodness  of  the  Creator  was  visible  even 
amidst  the  vengeance  of  an  offended  God,  came  to  revive 
their  dejected  minds.  A  daughter  of  Eve  was  destined  to 
crush  the  head  of  the  serpent,  and  regenerate  for  ever  a 
guilty  race  :  that  woman  was  Mary.  From  that  very  instant 
a  tradition  became  prevalent  that  a  woman  would  come  to 
repair  the  evil  that  woman  had  done.  Even  the  great  dis- 
persion of  the  human  race  in  the  plains  of  Bennar  failed  to 
efface  this  belief  from  the  minds  of  men,  and  they  carried 
with  them  beyond  the  mountains  and  the  seas  this  sweet 
but  distant  hope.  Later  on,  when  all  the  other  ancient 
traditions  were  enveloped  in  clouds,  that  one  of  the  Virgin 
and  the  Messias  resisted  almost  alone  the  action  of  time. 
And,  indeed,  if  we  but  make  a  survey  of  the  then  known 
world,  if  we  take  a  casual  glance  at  the  religious  annals  of 
nations,  we  shall  find  the  promised  virgin  and  her  divine 
parturition  to  be  the  foundation  of  almost  every  theogony. 

In  Thibet,  in  Japan,  and  in  part  of  the  eastern  peninsula 
of  India,  there  is  a  tradition  to  the  effect  that  the  god  Fo 
became  incarnate  in  the  womb  of  a  young  woman,  in  order  to 
save  mankind.  As  to  the  Chinese,  we  find  that  they  reckon 
among  the  "  sons  of  heaven  "  the  emperor  Hoang-Ti,  whose 


its  Origin  and  Progress.  771 

mother  conceived  him  by  the  light  of  a  flash  of  lightning. 
We  find,  too,  in  the  Chi-king  a  beautiful  ode  on  the  marvel- 
lous birth  of  Heau-Tsi,  the  head  of  the  dynasty  of  the 
Tcheons;  and  the  paraphrase  on  this  ode  given  by  Ho-Sou, 
makes  the  resemblance  to  the  divine  parturition  of  Mary 
most  striking.  ''  Everyone  at  his  birth,"  he  says,  "destroys 
the  integrity  of  his  mother,  and  causes  her  the  most  cruel 
sufferings.  Kiang-Yuen  brought  forth  her  son  without 
suffering,  injury,  or  pain.  This  was  because  Tien  (Heaven) 
would  display  its  power,  and  show  how  much  the  Holy  One 
differs  from  men.  He  was  born  without  prejudice  to  his 
mother's  virginity."  The  Lamas  say  that  Buddha  was  born 
of  the  virgin  Maha-Mahai.  The  Brahmins  also  tell  us  that 
when  a  god  takes  flesh,  he  is  born  in  the  womb  of  a  virgin 
by  divine  operation.  In  the  annals  of  the  Macenicans,  a 
tribe  of  people  who  dwell  on  the  borders  of  Lake  Zarayas  in 
Paraguay,  we  read  that  at  a  very  remote  period  a  woman  of 
rare  beauty  became  a  mother,  still  remaining  a  virgin ;  and, 
moreover,  that  her  son,  after  working  many  miracles,  raised 
himself  in  the  air  one  day  in  presence  of  his  astonished 
disciples,  and  transformed  himself  into  a  celestial  luminary. 
We  find  a  similar  belief  contained  in  the  religious  annals  of 
several  other  nations ;  so  much  so,  indeed,  that  if  time  and 
space  permitted  us  to  collect  the  scattered  fragments  of  their 
various  creeds,  we  would  reconstruct,  almost  in  detail,  the 
history  of  the  Virgin  and  the  promised  Messias. 

It  is  certainly  a  matter  of  surprise  that  those  legends, 
which  are  incontestably  more  ancient  than  the  Gospel  facts, 
should  form,  when  connected  together,  the  actual  life  of  the 
Son  of  God.  Can  truth,  therefore,  spring  from  error  ?  What 
are  we  to  think  of  the  striking  analogy  which  exists  between 
the  Gospel  facts  and  the  marvellous  traditions  of  heathen 
nations?  Are  we  to  conclude  with  the  self-styled  philo- 
sophers of  the  school  of  Voltaire,  or  with  the  German 
visionaries  of  our  own  day,  that  the  Apostles  borrowed 
these  fables  from  the  various  and  poetic  creeds  of  the  East  ? 
But  to  say  nothing  of  the  jealous  care  with  which  the  books 
reputed  divine  were  guarded  in  those  ancient  times,  how 
could  poor  men  of  the  humblest  class,  whose  whole  and  sole 


772     Universal  Expectation  of  the  Virgin  and  the  Messlas: 

knowledge  was  almost  limited  to  steering  a  bark  over  the  waters 
of  the  lake  of  Gennesareth,  and  whose  nets  were  still  dripping 
with  its  fresh  waters,  when  promoted  to  the  apostleship — how, 
I  repeat,  could  such  men  find  time  or  means  of  perusing  the 
sacred  volumes  of  the  Hindoos,  the  Chinese,  the  Bactrians, 
the  Phoenicians,  and  the  Persians?  How,  therefore,  are 
these  analogies  to  be  explained  ?  We  have  not  here  a  game 
of  chance.  These  traditiims  evidently  go  back  to  the  very 
infancy  of  the  world.  The  antediluvian  patriarchs  seeking 
to  form  an  idea  of  that  woman  whose  miraculous  maternity 
was  to  save  the  human  race,  pictured  her  to  themselves 
under  the  features  of  Eve  before  her  fall.  They  gave  to  her 
a  sacred  and  majestic  beauty,  which  would  create  in  the 
souls  of  men  a  religious  veneration.  They  made  her  a  lovely 
star,  whose  rising  was  to  precede  the  sun  of  justice.  With 
this  tradition  of  a  pure  virgin  was  connected  the  tradition  of 
a  saviour  born  of  her  womb,  who  was  to  immolate  himself  for 
the  salvation  of  the  human  race. 

The  bloody  sacrifice,  too,  which  we  find  established  from 
the  most  remote  times  among  all  nations  and  peoples,  could 
have  no  other  object  than  to  preserve  amongst  men  the 
remembrance  of  the  sacrifice  of  Calvary,  and  thereby  perpe- 
tuate faith  and  hope  in  a  Kedeemer  to  come.  The  worship, 
which  Adam  and  Eve  paid  to  God  in  Paradise,  consisted,  no 
doubt,  of  certain  prayers  and  offerings  of  fruits  and  flowers. 
But  when,  ungrateful  as  they  were,  they  had  violated  the 
precept  of  easy  obedience,  when  they  had  lost  with  the  im- 
mortalizing fruits  of  the  tree  of  life  their  talisman  against 
death,  we  find  them  offering  to  God  the  firstlings  of  their 
flocks.  Here  it  may  be  asked  :  How  came  it  into  the  mind 
of  man  that  the  Creator  could  be  pleased  with  the  violent 
death  of  His  creature,  and  that  an  act  of  destruction  could  be 
an  act  of  piety  ?  Adam  was,  without  doubt,  endowed  with 
the  tenderest  feelings  of  humanity.  The  immolation  of 
animals — to  his  mind,  at  least — had  not  the  smallest  connec- 
tion with  vows  and  prayers  ;  and  consequently,  when,  as  yet 
unskilled  in  killing,  he  stretched  at  his  feet  a  poor  creature, 
gentle  and  timid,  he  must  have  stood  pale  and  dismayed  like 
the  assassin  after  his  first  murder!     This  thought,  however, 


its  Origin  and  Progress.  773 

came  not  from  him;  it  was  not  an  act  of  choice,  but  of  painful 
obedience.  Who  imposed  it  ?  He  alone  to  whom  it  belongs 
to  dispose  of  hfe  and  death — God.  Moved  by  the  repentance 
of  our  first  parents,  God  made  known  to  them  the  mode  of 
imploring  His  pardon.  This  manner  of  worship  was  none 
other  than  sacrifice,  by  which  man,  confessing  that  he  had  de- 
served death,  substituted  innocent  victims  in  his  stead,  thereby 
recalling  perpetually  to  his  mind  the  great  Victim  of  Calvary. 
The  bloody  sacrifice,  therefore,  was  not  a  work  of  human 
invention,  but  reposed  in  reality  upon  a  thought  of  the 
divine  mercy,  and  perpetuated  among  all  nations  the  tradi- 
tion of  the  Messias. 

But  what  were  all  these  traditions  of  heathen  nations, 
marvellous  as  they  may  appear,  compared  with  that  flood  of 
light  which  illumined  the  elect  children  of  God?  If  we  turn 
to  the  oracles  of  the  Old  Testament  relating  to  the  Messias, 
we  are  struck  with  astonishment  at  the  long  chain  of  prophecy, 
the  first  link  of  which  hangs  on  to  the  infancy  of  the  world, 
while  the  last  is  fastened  to  the  tomb  of  Christ.  The  threat 
of  Jehovah  to  the  infernal  serpent  includes  the  first  of  the 
oracles  relating  to  the  Messias,  and  it  appears  that  Eve 
concluded  from  the  words  of  the  angel  that  she  herself  should 
be  the  mother  of  the  promised  liedeemer.  The  first  of  the 
race  of  Seth  flattered  themselves  with  the  same  hope.  Noe, 
who  was  constituted  heir  of  the  faith,  transmitted  these 
revelations  to  Sem  ;  and  Sem,  whose  long  life  almost  equalled 
those  of  his  ancestors,  might  have  repeated  them  to  the 
father  of  the  faithful.  These  traditions  are  succeeded  in  due 
course  by  the  grand  prophecy  of  Jacob.  The  dying  patriarch 
having  assembled  his  sons  around  his  death-bed,  announces 
to  them  that  Juda  has  been  chosen  amongst  all  his  brethren 
to  be  the  father  of  that  ''  Shiloh,"  so  often  promised,  who  is 
to  be  the  King  of  kings  and  the  Lord  of  lords.  He  shall 
spring  up,  he  says,  from  the  ruins  of  his  country,  when  the 
"Schebet"  or  sceptre  (that  is,  legislative  authority)  shall 
have  passed  into  the  hands  of  a  stranger.  It  is  true,  indeed, 
that  some  modern  Jews  strive  to  elude  the  force  of  this 
argument  by  translating  "Schebet"  and  "Shiloh"  diffe- 
rently from  us.     But  their  ancient  books  contradict  them. 


774     Universal  Expectation  of  the  Virgin  and  the  Messlas  : 

This  prophecy  is  understood  of  the  Messias  in  the  Tahnud  ; 
and  Jonathan,  to  whom  the  Jews  assign  the  first  place  among 
the  disciples  of  Hillel,  and  whom  they  reverence  almost  as 
Moses,  translates  "  Schebet  "  by  principality,  and  ''  Shiloh  " 
by  Messias. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  mission  of  Moses,  and  whilst  the 
Israelites  were  still  encamped  in  the  desert,  Balaam  came  in 
his  turn,  to  confirm  the  promise  of  the  Messias,  and  to 
designate  in  the  clearest  manner  the  time  of  his  coming. 
*'I  shall  see  him, but  not  now,"  he  says;  **I  shall  behold  him, 
but  not  near."  The  soothsayer,  from  the  banks  of  the 
Euphrates,  standing  upon  the  rocky  summits  of  Phogor, 
moved  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  beholds,  as  "  with  the  eye  of  a 
dream,"  a  wonderful  vision.  He  sees  the  ruin  of  that  Judea, 
which  is  not  to  be  in  existence  till  long  afterwards  ;  he  follows 
with  his  eye  the  fall  of  the  Roman  eagle,  seven  hundred  years 
before  the  birth  of  the  sons  of  Ilia,  and  when  the  wild  goats 
of  Latium  are  browsing  upon  the  shrubby  declivities  of  the 
seven  hills. 

Ages  now  roll  on  without  any  other  promises  from 
Jehovah ;  but  the  oracles  relating  to  the  Messias  are  confided 
to  tradition  or  deposited  in  the  sacred  law.  In  the  meantime 
Israel  is  called  upon  to  wage  an  incessant  contest  against  the 
idolatrous  nations  which  surround  her;  but  during  her  many 
and  varied  fortunes  her  people  do  not  forget  the  coming  of 
Christ ;  and,  in  default  of  new  revelations,  their  very  life 
becomes  prophetic.  Nothing  but  the  present  incredulity  of 
the  Jews  could  equal  in  depth  the  faith  of  their  ancestors. 
On  the  threshold  of  eternity  they  hailed  from  afar  the  hope 
of  the  Redeemer,  as  Moses  hailed  with  a  sigh  ''  that  land  of 
milk  and  honey  "  which  the  Lord  closed  against  him.  From 
the  time  of  David,  and  under  the  kings,  his  children,  the 
thread  of  prophecy  is  joined  again,  and  the  mystery  of  the 
promised  Messias  becomes  clearer  than  before.  David  spoke 
of  the  virginal  parturition  of  Mary.  Solomon,  too,  delighted 
in  tracing  her  image  with  sweet  strokes  of  the  pencil.  He 
sees  her  rising  up  in  the  midst  of  the  daughters  of  Juda,  "as 
a  lily  among  the  thorns,"  and  her  beauty  rivals  in  splendour 
the  ''  rising  moon."     Finally,  we  have  the  great   oracle  of 


its  Origin  and  Progress .  7?5 

Isaias.  He  declares  to  the  house  of  David,  that  God  will 
give  an  encouraging  sign  of  the  future  condition  of  Judea — a 
future  to  be  yet  long  and  glorious.  "  A  virgin  shall  con- 
ceive," he  says  ;  "  she  shall  bring  forth  a  Son,  and  His  name 
shall  be  called  Emmanuel,  that  is,  God  with  us."  This  Child, 
miraculously  given  to  the  earth,  shall  be  an  offset  from  the 
stock  of  Jesse,  a  flower  sprung  from  his  root.  He  shall  be 
called  God,  the  Mighty,  the  Father  of  the  world  to  come,  the 
Prince  of  Peace.  He  shall  stand  for  an  ensign  of  people  ;  Him 
the  Gentiles  shall  beseech,  and  His  sepulchre  shall  "  be 
glorious."  This  oracle  has  been  the  subject  of  a  long  dispute 
between  the  Jews  and  the  Christians.  The  Rabbins  contend 
that  the  word  "Halma,"  used  by  Isaias,  signifies  merely  a 
young  woman,  and  not  a  virgin,  as  the  Septuagint  translates 
it.  But  St.  Jerome,  who,  without  exception,  was  the  greatest 
of  commentators  and  most  profoundly  versed  in  the  Hebrew 
tongue,  pronounces,  without  fear  of  contradiction,  that 
"  Halma,"  wherever  the  word  occurs  in  the  Sacred  Scripture, 
signifies  exclusively  a  virgin  in  all  her  innocence,  and 
nowhere  a  married  woman.  Luther,  too,  who  made  so  de- 
plorable a  use  of  really  great  learning,  admits  the  same  ;  and 
even  Mohomet  himself  has  borne  testimony  to  the  Virginity 
of  the  Mother  of  God. 

The  mystery  of  the  Messias  was  entirely  unveiled  to  the 
prophets  ;  some  of  them  see  Bethlehem  rendered  illustrious 
by  His  birth ;  others  foretell  His  triumphant  entry  into 
Jerusalem.  Nothing  is  wanting  to  the  completion  of  the 
prophecies;  Jacob  has  determined  the  coming  of  the 
'*  Shiloh  "  at  that  precise  moment  when  the  Jews  shall 
cease  to  be  governed  by  their  own  laws,  which  im.plies  the 
ruin  of  a  state ;  Balaam  adds  that  this  ruin  shall  be  the 
work  of  a  people  come  from  Italy  ;  and  the  satrap  Daniel 
reckons  up  precisely  the  weeks  which  are  to  elapse  to  that 
time. 

''All  that  happens  in  the  world,"  says  a  man  of  genius^ 
"  has  its  sign  before  it.  When  the  sun  is  about  to  rise,  the 
horizon  is  tinted  with  a  thousand  colours,  and  the  east 
appears  all  on  fire.  When  the  tempest  comes,  a  dull  murmur 
is  heard  on  the  shore,  and  the  waves  are  agitated  as  if  by 


7?6  Mission  of  Our  Lady  of  the  Rosary. 

themselves.'*  The  figures  of  the  Old  Testament  are  the 
signs  which  announce  the  rising  of  the  Sun  of  Justice  and  of 
the  Star  of  the  Sea.  "  All  these  things  happened  to  them  in 
figure."  God  matures  His  counsels  in  the  course  of  ages, 
for  a  thousand  years  are  with  Him  as  one  day  ;  but  man  is 
eager  to  obtain,  for  man  endures  but  a  short  time.  After  an 
expectation  of  four  thousand  years,  the  time  marked  out  by 
so  many  prophecies  arrived  at  last ;  the  shadows  of  the  old 
law  disappear,  the  figure  gives  way  to  the  substance,  and 
Mary  arises  in  the  horizon  of  Judea,  like  the  star  which  is 
the  harbinger  of  day. 

Philip  Duffy,  C.C. 


MISSION  OF  OUE  LADY  OF  THE  KOSAKY. 

^*  TKELAND,"  says  Archbishop  Lynch, '' has  a  divine 
Jl  mission."  In  this  assurance  we  have  our  greatest 
consolation,  when  we  come  to  consider  the  ever-flowing  tide 
of  emigration  which  has  rolled  away  from  our  shores  during 
the  past  three  hundred  years.  In  early  ages,  indeed,  the 
children  of  St.  Patrick  illumined  the  dark  regions  of 
Northern  Europe  with  the  hght  of  faith.  Germany  alone, 
we  are  told,  honours  no  less  than  one  hundred  and  fifty-six 
Irish  saints.  France,  Belgium,  Italy,  Norway,  and  Iceland, 
have  each  a  large  proportion  of  Irish  saints  on  their 
calendar. 

But  the  Irish  saints  of  later  days,  whose  lot  has  been  to 
plant  the  faith  upon  the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  the  Potomac, 
and  the  Savannah  ;  to  light  up  the  holy  fane  along  the 
Western  prairies  ;  to  traverse  the  untrodden  waste,  and  raise 
aloft  the  glorious  standard  of  the  cross  among  the  snow- 
capped peaks  of  Oregon,  far  outnumber  these. 

The  divine  mission  has  been  faithfully  discharged. 
Ireland  has  given  the  best  blood  of  her  warm  heart  to  fulfil 
that  duty  ;  and  with  its  accomplishment,  as  *he  harbinger  of 


Mission  of  Our  Lady  of  the  B'osarij.  Ill 

her  reward,  we  behold  the  first  glecam  of  hope  breaking 
through  the  dark  clouds,  which  have  so  long  overshadowed 
the  sunny  valleys  of  her  own  fair  land. 

Whatever  weight  may  be  attached  to  the  statement  of 
Archbishop  Lynch,  certain  it  is,  that  but  for  Ireland,  the 
Church  would  hold  a  poor  place  in  the  great  Kepublic. 
Nor  can  it  be  denied  that  it  was  the  children  of  Erin  erected 
the  majestic  cathedrals  of  the  New  World,  and  filled  them 
with  devout  worshippers.  For  from  1633,  when  Leonard 
Calvert  sailed  for  Maryland  with  a  small  colony,  most  of 
whom  were  Irish,  until  the  present  day,  Ireland  has 
continued  to  contribute  far  out  of  her  proportion  to  the 
growth  of  America.  The  Irish  Eegistrar-General  in  his 
emigration  statistics  for  1888,  states  that  since  1851,  when 
the  collection  of  these  statistics  first  commenced,  three 
million  two  hundred  and  seventy-six  thousand  emigrants 
have  left  Ireland ;  while  the  Board  of  Trade  returns 
show  that  during  the  past  nine  months  no  fewer  than 
fifty-seven  thousand  six  hundred  and  ninety-seven  persons 
emigrated  from  our  shores.  From  other  sources,  however, 
we  find  that,  at  the  time  these  statistics  were  first  taken, 
the  Church  had  already  grown  to  large  proportions  in  the 
States.  Six  archbishops,  thirty-three  bishops,  and  eighteen 
hundred  priests  looked  after  the  spiritual  wants  of  three 
million  souls,  of  whom  nearly  all  were  Irish.  For  it  was 
especially  between  1840  and  1850  that  the  American  Church 
received  an  astonishing  increase  in  numbers.  During  that 
decade  more  than  two  hundred  thousand  Irish  annually 
passed  through  the  portals  of  the  New  World.  From  these 
figures,  then,  it  would  appear  that,  making  allowance 
for  deaths  and  losses  from  other  causes,  Ireland  has 
given  to  America  not  less  than  eight  millions  of  her 
children. 

Yes,  we  must  not  forget  to  make  allowance  for  losses, 
for  be  it  remembered  that  the  early  progress  of  Catholicity 
in  America  was  not  along  a  path  of  roses.  '*  We  ought,  if 
there  were  no  loss,"  wrote  Bishop  England  in  1836,  "  to 
have  five  millions  of  Catholics,  and  as  we  have  less  than  one 
million  and  a-quarter,  there  must  be  a  loss  of  three  millions 


778  Mission  of  Our  Lady  of  the  Bosary. 

and  three-quarters  at  least,  and  the  persons  so  lost  are  found 
amongst  the  various  sects  to  the  amount  of  thrice  the  number 
of  the  Catholic  population  of  the  whole  country." 

To  what  causes  then  may  we  attribute  all  this  enormous 
loss  : — 

1.  To  the  unholy  persecution  which  drove  Catholics 
from  Ireland. 

2.  To  the  penal  code  of  the  colonies. 

3.  To  the  want  of  churches  and  schools. 

4.  And  to  the  odium  attached,  in  those  days,  among 
English-speaking  people  to  the  very  name  of  Catholic. 

That  so  many  of  our  race  have  lost  the  faith,  may  seem 
unaccountable ;  to  some  extent,  indeed,  notwithstanding  the 
above  reasons,  this  is  the  case.  But  when  we  consider,  in 
the  first  place,  the  condition  and  circumstances  of  those  who 
generally  were  compelled  to  fly  from  our  shores,  and,  in  the 
second  place,  the  character  of  the  people,  and  the  nature  of 
the  land  in  which  they  found  a  home,  it  may  tend  to  throw 
a  little  light  upon  the  subject.  The  condition  of  our  emi- 
grants, for  the  most  part,  was  such  as  was  least  calculated 
to  assist  them  in  their  struggle  for  faith  and  fortune  in 
a  foreign  land.  They  were  poor ;  it  was  poverty  com- 
pelled them  to  go  ;  and  the  ruthless  penal  code  prohibited 
their  receiving  the  blessing  of  a  good  education.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  Church  was  not  before  them  in  the  Stales  to 
cherish  and  sustain  them.  They  were  the  pioneers  of  the 
Church,  and  in  too  many  cases  penetrated  far  beyond  the 
limits  of  the  civilization  of  their  day,  and,  at  their  death  in 
the  far  West,  their  children,  who,  perhaps  had  never  seen 
a  Catholic  priest,  became  the  easy  prey  of  proselytism  or 
unbelief. 

There  was  yet  another  cause  of  loss.  It  arose  from  the 
perils  and  dangers  that  had  to  be  encountered  the  moment 
our  emigrants  set  foot  on  American  soil.  Friendless,  home- 
less, illiterate,  unprotected,  they  became,  only  too  often,  the 
victims  of  wily  and  unscrupulous  monsters,  who  made  a 
regular  profession  of  alluring  our  innocent  Irish  girls  to  low 
and  disreputable  lodging-houses,  and  thence  to  ruin  and 
disgrace. 


Mission  of  Our  Lady  of  the  Bosarij.  779 

To  staunch  the  wounds  from  which  the  life-blood  of  the 
American  Church  was  flowing;  to  preserve  our  emigrant 
girls  from  this  awful  fate  ;  to  throw  the  mantle  of  faith 
around  them  at  the  very  gates  of  the  West,  the  mission  of 
our  Lady  of  the  Rosary  was  founded,  January  1st,  1884.  It 
was  at  a  meeting  of  the  Irish  Catholic  Colonization  Society 
in  Chicago,  May,  1888,  that  the  idea  of  having  a  priest 
permanently  located  at  Castle  Garden  was  first  suggested, 
as  up  to  that  time  there  was  no  Catholic  mission  at  the 
Garden.  The  proposal  at  once  received  the  warm  approval 
of  Bishops  Ireland,  Spaulding,  and  Ryan ;  and  on  all  sides  it 
was  admitted  to  be  of  the  utmost  importance  to  have  a 
priest  specially  appointed  to  look  after  the  wants  of  the 
emigrants,  and  take  them  under  his  special  care.  To  this 
important  duty  Father  Riordan  was  appointed  by  the  late 
Cardinal  M'Closkey,  and  took  charge  of  the  mission,  January 
1st,  1884.  Few  men  were  as  well  qualified  as  this  kindly, 
generous-hearted  priest  to  make  the  undertaking  a  success  ; 
his  very  look  inspired  confidence,  and  his  every  thought 
was  directed  to  secure  for  "  his  poor  emigrant  girls " 
a  suitable  home.  Had  God  been  pleased  to  spare  him  a 
little  longer,  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  his  efforts  would 
have  been  crowned  with  complete  success.  As  it  is,  how- 
ever, he  has  left  in  the  Mission  Home  at  Castle  Garden 'an 
undying  monument  of  his  energy  and  zeal. 

At  his  demise,  December  15,  1887,  the  mission  was 
placed  under  the  charge  of  Father  Hugh  Kelly,  who, 
following  in  the  footsteps  of  its  founder,  laboured  earnestly 
in  the  same  good  cause,  till  ill-health,  to  the  regret  of 
all  the  sincere  friends  of  the  mission,  compelled  him  to 
resign,  January  24,  1889.  Father  M.  Callaghan,  late  Rector 
of  the  Church  of  the  Assumption,  PeekskiJl,  was  then 
appointed  successor  to  Father  Kelly,  by  his  Grace,  the 
Archbishop  of  New  York.  In  him  the  mission  has  found 
a  good  priest,  gifted  with  all  those  qualities  of  head  and 
heart  necessary  to  carry  on  the  good  work;  and  there 
can  be  little  doubt  that,  under  his  careful  management, 
the  mission  of  our  Lady  of  the  Rosary  will  continue  to  bear 
good  fruit. 


780  Mission  of  Our  Lady  of  the  BosariJ-. 

The  object  of  the  mission,  as  set  forth  by  its  fomidei*, 
Father  Eiordan,  was  : — 

'•  1.  To  establish  at  Castle  Garden,  the  chief  landing-place  for 
emigrants,  a  Catholic  bureau,  under  the  charge  of  a  priest,  for 
the  purpose  of  protecting,  counselling,  and  supplying  information 
to  emigrants  landing  there 

"2.  A  Catholic  emigrants'  temporary  home,  or  boarding- 
house,  in  which  emigrants  might  be  sheltered,  safe  from  the 
dangers  of  the  city,  while  waiting  for  employment  or  in  transitu. 

"3.  To  provide  an  emigrant's  chapel,  by  means  of  which 
the  blessings  and  consolations  of  religion  might  be  dispensed  to 
those  who  make  their  first  start  in  life  in  the  New  World  under 
the  auspices  of  the  mission." 

This  threefold  object  has  now  been  accomplished,  and 
the  mission,  under  God,  has  been  the  means  of  guiding 
thousands  of  emigrant  girls  into  the  employment  of  Christian 
families.  The  beneficent  influences  of  the  mission  have 
been  experienced  all  over  the  country,  and  acknowledged 
with  gratitude  from  every  quarter.  The  amount  of  good 
done  since  its  establishment  can  scarcely  be  estimated. 
Some  idea,  however,  can  be  formed  from  the  fact  that,  apart 
altogether  from  the  vast  numbers  that  have  received  advice 
and  assistance,  in  many  ways,  on  passing  through  to  tbe 
interior  of  the  country,  no  fewer  than  twenty-five  thousand 
emigrant  girls  had  up  to  August,  1890,  been  sheltered 
beneath  its  hospitable  roof,  shielded  from  the  dangers  which 
Father  Eiordan  assures  us  ''it  is  impossible  to  exaggerate," 
and  placed  in  the  bosom  of  good  Catholic  families,  in  which 
they  are  assured  not  only  a  comfortable  home,  but  protection 
from  the  fearful  fate  that  has,  but  too  often,  fallen  to  the  lot 
of  the  hapless  emigrant  girl. 

"  Ah !  well  the  friendless  girl  can  tell 

The  arts  the  tempter  knows, 
Who  paints  the  path  that  leads  to  hell, 

But  coloured  like  the  rose. 
Oh  !  blessed  be  God's  eternal  fame 

Who  sent  to  such  as  me 
The  mission  of  the  blessed  name — 

**  The  Holy  Rosary." 

There   are   few   priests,    who   have    any   experience    of 


Mission  of  Our  Lady  of  the  Bosarij.  781 

missionary  work,  but  will  admit  that,  in  the  case  of  indivi- 
duals or  families  settling  down  in  their  district,  a  great  deal 
of  their  future  success  depends  on  the  influences  that 
surround  them,  and  the  persons  with  whom  they  are  first 
thrown  into  association.  This  truth  is  borne  out,  but  in  a 
far  wider  sense  in  the  case  of  emigrants  to  the  States. 
Place  a  Catholic  emigrant  in  the  bosom  of  a  good  virtuous 
family,  until  she  becomes  acclimatized  and  accustomed  to 
the  change  of  life,  and  the  ways  of  the  people  around  her, 
and  you  may  be  morally  sure  she  will  succeed.  But  place 
her  in  a  low  lodging-house  in  one  of  the  slums  of  New 
York,  where  the  very  air  is  pestilential ;  let  her  remain  but  a 
short  time  in  companionship  with  the  class  which  inhabits 
these  parts,  and  the  assimilation  is  so  easy  and  so  sure,  that 
we  have  far  too  many  examples  to  prove  the  rule. 

Formerly,  on  landing  at  Castle  Garden,  the  Irish 
emigrant  girl  had  no  friend  to  direct  her  course,  a  new 
world  opened  up  before  her,  and  she  soon  found  out  it  had 
not  the  charms  she  once  conjured  up  in  her  mind.  She 
was,  indeed,  in  America ;  there  was  a  time  when  she 
imagined  if  but  there,  success  were  assured  ;  but,  alas  !  she 
had  now  no  idea  whither  to  turn  ;  she  was  friendless  and 
forlorn.  Dangers  surrounded  her  on  every  side,  and,  were 
she  not  fortunate  enough  to  find  employment  at  once,  she 
was  compelled  to  seek  shelter  in  some  low  boarding-house, 
where  debauchery  and  vice  held  high  carnival.  Now,  all 
this  is  changed  ;  our  emigrant  girls  are  no  longer  friendless  ; 
they  are  no  longer  without  a  home.  The  genial  smile  and 
gentle  word  of  the  priest  cheers  their  drooping  heart,  and 
bids  them  welcome  to  the  great  Western  World.  The 
mission  of  our  Lady  of  the  Eosary  throws  open  its 
hospitable  doors  to  shield  them  from  all  peril,  and  offer  them 
a  secure  refuge  and  haven  of  rest.  Eeligion,  with  the 
sword  of  faith,  stands  sentinel  on  the  watch-tower,  and 
pours  the  balm  of  true  consolation  into  their  aching 
hearts. 

The  Church  in  America  has  taken  active  measures  to 
safeguard  our  Irish  emigrant  girls  ;  but  could  not  something 
be  done  at  home,  as  well?    It  is  with  the  greatest  deference 


782  Mission  of  Our  Lady  of  the  Bosary. 

to  the  opinion  of  others,  and  a  firm  conviction  that  the 
matter  is  one  of  the  utmost  importance,  that  the  writer 
ventures  to  offer  a  few  suggestions.  In  doing  so,  indeed,  he 
has  waited  patiently,  expecting  that  some  more  facile  pen 
than  his  might  have  advocated  the  cause  of  our  poor 
emigrant  girls.  A  great  deal  has  undoubtedly  been  written 
from  time  to  time  on  the  subject,  but  more  or  less  in  a 
desultory  kind  of  way,  and  having,  as  a  consequence,  little 
practical  effect.  After  careful  consideration  of  the  question, 
added  to  several  years'  experience  of  a  mission  from  which 
large  numbers  have  been  in  the  habit  of  leaving  for  America 
every  week,  he  has  come  to  the  conclusion  that  until  an 
auxiliary  move  is  made  in  Ireland  the  work  of  the  mission  of 
our  Lady  of  the  Kosary  cannot  be  as  effective  as  it  might. 
A  great  deal  more  could  be  done,  and,  in  fact,  ought  to  be  done 
at  home,  since  many  of  the  dangers  to  which  emigrant  girls 
are  exposed  have  to  be  encountered  before  ever  they  reach 
New  York,  and  it  is  not  without  grave  reason  that  they  are 
cautioned  against  '*  ship  acquaintances  "  in  the  little  leaflets 
circulated  by  the  mission. 

When  we  consider  that  it  is  not  unusual  for  four  thou- 
sand emigrants  to  land  in  Castle  Garden  in  one  day,  it  w^ill 
enable  us  to  understand  how  utterly  impossible  it  is  for  the 
priest  in  charge  to  pick  out  those  who  require  special 
attention.  This,  indeed,  would  be  comparatively  easy  did 
all  our  emigrant  girls  know  of  the  existence  of  the  Emigrant 
Home  in  Castle  Garden.  But  how  many  of  them  leave 
Ireland  without  having  heard  of  such  an  institution  ? 

The  first  duty,  then,  for  us  at  home  would  be  to  make 
emigrant  girls  aware  of  the  fact  that  there  exists  at  Castle 
Garden  a  Home,  in  care  of  a  priest,  where  they  will  receive 
every  attention  and  be  secure  from  all  danger.  This  is  best 
accomplished  by  distributing  the  leaflets,  which  have  been 
specially  prepared  to  convey  all  necessary  information  to 
intending  emigrants. 

In  the  next  place,  could  it  not  be  so  arranged,  that,  in 
conjunction  with  the  Labour  Bureau  attached  to  the  mission 
of  our  Lady  of  the  Eosary,  and  in  which  all  emigrants  can 
find  places,  an  office  might  be  opened  in  some  suitable  part 


i 


Mission  of  Our  Lady  of  the  Bosary.  783 

of  Ireland?  Here,  as  in  the  Labour  Bureau  at  Castle 
Garden,  it  would  be  possible  for  emigrant  girls,  before  ever 
setting  out  from  home,  to  secure  a  suitable  situation,  and  be 
assured  of  falling  into  good  hands.  For  the  rules  of  the 
Bureau  require  that  all  those  seeking  female  aid  shall  be 
supplied  with  letters,  testifying  to  their  character  and  social 
standing,  from  the  Catholic  priest  of  their  district.  In  this 
office  emigrants  could  obtain  all  necessary  advice  and  infor- 
mation in  reference  to  the  mission  of  our  Lady  of  the 
Eosary ;  leaflets  could  be  distributed,  and  the  names  and 
destination,  at  least  of  all  unprotected  girls,  taken  down 
and  forwarded  to  the  rector  of  the  mission,  so  that  he  might 
be  on  the  look  out  for  their  arrival. 

But  many  will  say.  Have  not  most  of  our  emigrant  girls 
friends  to  meet  on  the  other  side  ?  The  following  extract 
from  a  letter  received  from  Father  Kelly  tells  its  own 
tale  : — 

"  There  is  another  inatter  in  which  our  people  should  be 
instructed — namely,  self-reliance.  Thousands  of  our  young  girls 
come  here  who  have  paid  their  own  passage,  but  have  no  definite 
idea  of  what  is  best  for  them  to  do  upon  landing.  All  they  seem 
to  know  is,  that  they  are  in  America,  and  that  they  have  an 
aunt,  or  a  cousin,  or  a  neighbour,  residing  somewhere  in  it,  and 
if  once  with  them  they  would  be  happy.  God  help  them  !  That 
which  is  a  commendable  trait  in  their  character  at  home  some- 
times leads  to  their  ruin  here — an  open  and  affectionate  heart. 

"To  make  myself  intelligible,  I  shall  classify  the  people  our 
emigrants  generally  have  the  address  of  : — 

'•  First,  sisters  and  brothers,  aunts  and  uncles  of  character 
and  means,  and  (rarely)  convents  and  priests.  Against  such  no 
objection  can,  of  course,  be  made. 

"  Second,  aunts,  uncles,  and  cousins,  who  keep  cheap  board- 
ing houses,  or  are  comparatively  poor,  and  who  require  the  girl, 
not  out  of  friendship  or  for  her  own  sake,  hut  for  her  work.  This 
class  I  consider  most  objectionable. 

"  The  third,  and  the  most  numerous,  are  relatives  and  friends 
whose  character  is  of  questionable  repute.  In  this  class  I  have 
been  asked  time  and  again  to  telegraph  to  acquaintances — young 
men  whose  character  changed  very  much  for  the  worse  since  their 
advent  to  America,  and  whose  address  would  be  some  low  '  gin- 
mill  '  in  a  not  very  respectable  quarter  of  the  city.  Too  many 
of  our  women,  who  are  not  all  that  we  would  wish  them,  can  date 
their  unhappiness,   if  not  their  misery,  from  the  first  few  days 


784  Mission  of  Our  Lachj  of  the  Bosary. 

they  spent  in  the  society  of  such  so-called  friends;  and  well 
might  they  have  exclaimed,  '  From  such  friends,  0  Lord,  deliver 
us' " 

There  is  yet,  however,  another  point  that  claims  our 
careful  consideration.  The  object  our  poor  girls  have  in 
Yiew  in  leaving  home  is  to  improve  their  social  position  and 
secure  a  comfortable  livelihood.  Now,  can  they  ever  expect 
to  attain  this  end,  if,  the  moment  they  land  in  America,  they 
begin  to  drink  ?     And  yet — 

"  It  is  a  lamentable  fact  [Father  Kelly  assures  us],  that  many — 
too  many — of  our  young  emigrant  girls  can  be  seen  standing  at 
the  bar  in  the  Rotunda,  five  minutes  after  landing,  with  a  bottle 
of  beer  in  their  hands,  usually  with  a  cousin  or  neighbour  boy. 
I  fear  [he  continues]  that  curses,  not  loud  but  deep,  follow  some 
of  these  same  cousins  and  neighbour  boys.  Thank  God,  they  are 
not  all  alike ;  but  those  I  have  in  my  mind,  as  I  write,  not  only 
do  their  utmost  to  prevent  them  from  going  to  my  Home  (if 
obliged  to  stay  over  night),  but  use  their  influence  to  take  them 
to  cheap  lodging-houses.  Why  is  it  that  a  single  emigrant  girl 
arrives  here  who  is  not  pledged  to  abstain  from  all  intoxicating 
liquors?  They  can  have  milk  or  coffee  furnished  them  here 
instead  of  poison  surely  to  their  souls  !" 

This,  then,  is  the  greatest  danger  of  all;  and  how  is  it  to 
be  avoided  ?  There  is  only  one  remedy — total  abstinence. 
Let  the  pledge  be  administered  to  all  our  emigrants, 
especially  our  emigrant  girls,  before  ever  they  leave  their 
native  parish,  and  let  them  be  directed  to  become  members 
of  the  Catholic  Total  Abstinence  Union  of  America,  which 
has  branches  in  nearly  every  parish,  as  soon  as  ever  they 
reach  their  destination.  By  this  means  thousands  would 
be  saved  from  taking  the  first  downward  step  on  the  road  to 
their  eternal  ruin,  and  the  reproach  which  our  countrymen 
have  so  often  to  bear  would  be  for  ever  blotted  out.  It  will 
not  do  to  allow  our  emigrants  to  reach  their  new  home  before 
they  take  the  pledge.  No ;  the  pledge  should  be  adminis- 
tered by  their  own  priest ;  and  if  so  administered,  will  be 
regarded  as  a  thousand  times  more  sacred  than  if  taken 
from  the  greatest  advocate  of  the  cause  in  the  States. 
Moreover,  grave  dangers  beset  the  emigrant  on  her  journey, 
which  can  only  be  avoided  by  the  adoption  of  this  plan ;  for 


Mission  of  Our  Lady  of  the  Bosary.  ?85 

sad,  indeed,  is  the  fate  of  the  poor  girl,  however  innocent 
she  may  be,  who  takes  drink  on  an  American  Liner. 

Had  the  mission  of  our  Lady  of  the  Eosary  been 
estabhshed  fifty  years  ago,  how  many  souls  would  have  been 
saved  to  the  Church  ?  Let  the  millions  who  have  lost  the  faith 
and  the  countless  dupes  of  wily  procurators  answer.  If  the 
mission,  now  that  it  is  established,  is  not  aided  and  assisted, 
how  many  souls  will  yet  be  lost  to  the  faith,  how  many 
unsuspecting  Irish  girls  brought  to  destruction  ?  God  only 
knows.  The  emigrant  girls  of  to-day  are  little  different  in 
character  from  their  predecessors  ;  if  there  is  a  change  at  all, 
it  is  to  be  feared  that  it  is  only  for  the  worse. 

"  Applying  not  a  high  but  a  moderate  standard  of  morality 
[says  Father  Kelly]  to  some  of  the  emigrants  landed  here 
during  the  past  season,  I  fear  that  the  enemy  which  through  a 
long  night  of  slavery  and  persecution  we  so  successfully  combated 
has  at  last  gained  a  vantage  point,  which  if  a  vigorous  effort  be 
not  now  made  he  will  most  assuredly  hold." 

** 

Are  we  to  make  that  vigorous  effort  ?  Are  we  to  throw 
ourselves  into  the  work  with  a  determination  to  succeed  ? 
If  so  there  is  no  time  to  be  lost.  The  spring  will  be  upon 
us  very  soon  again,  and  our  ports  of  embarkation  thronged 
with  emigrant  girls,  only  anxious  to  take  advantage  of  every 
means  which  shall  be  put  within  their  reach  to  save  them- 
selves from  the  perils  of  their  journey.  Forewarned  is  fore- 
armed ;  let  them  then,  by  all  means,  be  forewarned  ;  let  them 
be  taught  to  avoid  all  dangerous  companionship  on  board 
their  vessel ;  to  seek  shelter  and  advice,  if  required,  at  the 
Mission  Home  ;  and  to  rely  not  upon  thei?'  friends,  but  upon 
themselves.  Let  them  be  advised  to  take  a  place  at  once, 
which  they  can  easily  secure  at  the  Labour  Bureau,  and 
write  or  call  upon  their  friends  after  a  time  ;  and,  above  all,  to 
avoid  intoxicating  drink,  no  matter  on  what  plea  it  may  be 
offered  ;  and  their  safety  is  morally  certain.  F'or  the  bright 
Queen  of  Heaven,  under  whose  patronage  the  mission  has 
been  placed,  will  smile  down  upon  the  poor  emigrant  girl, 
shield  her  from  every  danger,  and  lead  her  securely  through 
the  awful  perils  that  beset  her  path. 

John  Nolan,  C.C. 

VOL.  XII.  3  D 


[    786    ] 


AN  EAELY  ENGLISH  PKYMEK/. 

CATHOLICS,  in  common  with  all  cultured  persons  of 
literary  tastes,  ought  to  be,  and  are,  specially  indebted 
to  those  disinterested  Protestants  who  devote  thought,  time, 
and  money,  to  the  revival  of  the  Church's  devotional  treasures 
of  the  past.  Such  a  labour  of  love  may  well  be  termed  dis- 
interested, for  it  seldom  or  never  meets  with  its  reward 
immediately,  even  if  its  reward  comes  eventually.  In  spite 
of  such  absence  of  encouragement,  however,  many  are  they 
who  engage  in  this  work  of  piety,  whether  in  the  combina- 
tion of  societies,  or  as  units  devoted  to  this  division  of  sacred 
literature.  And  the  last  half  century  is  conscious  of  many 
valuable  results  of  such  work,  one  of  the  latest  of  which  is 
the  volume  edited  by  Mr.  Littlehales,  and  published  by  the 
house  of  Longmans. 

The  main,  if  not  the  sole  stipulation  which  Catholics 
mentally  make,  in  order  to  arouse  their  sentiment  of  gratitude 
for  such  literary  efforts  on  the  part  of  Protestants,  is  twofold : 
the  matter  reproduced  must  be  worthy,  and  the  form  in 
which  the  reproduction  is  made  must  be  faithful  and  true. 
The  prymer  of  the  fourteenth  century  is  a  book  of  which 
both  these  features  may  be  affirmed — the  second  absolutely, 
the  first  with  qualifications.  The  MS.  has  been  copied  for 
the  press,  printed  in  clear,  readable  type,  and  collated  after- 
wards with  the  original  more  than  once,  apparently  with 
every  possible  care  ;  and  if  any  doubts  are  expressed,  as  they 
will  be  expressed,  on  the  liturgical,  as  apart  from  the 
devotional,  value  of  the  MS.  reprinted,  these  doubts  have  been 
felt  and  will  be  stated  with  much  diffidence  in  their 
validity.  Such  a  work  demands  from  a  critic  the  special 
knowledge  of  an  expert  (equal  or  even  superior,  to  that  of  an 
editor),  lacking  which  the  latter  could  not  have  attempted  the 
task  he  has  achieved.     Without  pretending  to  take  a  position 

1  The  Pnjmer,  or  Prayer-Book  of  the  Lay  People  in  the  Middle-Ages 
in  English,  dating  about  1400,  a.d.  Edited^  with  Introduction  and  Notes,  from 
the  Manuscript  (G.  24)  in  St.  John's  ( 'ollege,  Cambridge,  by  Henry  Little^ 
hales.     Part  I. — Text.     London  and  New  York  :  Longmans  Sf.  Co.,  1891. 


An  Early  English  Prymer.  787 

higher  than  that  of  a  student  of  some  years'  standing  of 
printed  prymers,  the  writer  at  the  outset  finds  himself,  as 
any  reviewer  would  find  himself,  placed  at  a  disadvantage. 
In  attempting  to  estimate  the  original  of  the  reprint,  and 
without  the  possibility  of  gaining  access  to  the  original,  he 
is  met  with  the  absence  of  all  information  from  Mr.  Little- 
hales,  upon  which  an  intelligent  criticism  alone  can  be 
founded  touching  the  value  of  the  prymer.  The  volume  in 
question  contains  the  text  only  of  an  ancient  prymer.  It 
is  innocent  of  any  introduction,  liturgical  and  explanatory ; 
of  any  preface,  saving  a  complimentary  one;  of  footnote,  or 
sidenote  to  the  text ;  of  a  contemporary  title,  or  page-head- 
ing of  modern  date  ;  even  of  a  table  of  contents,  however 
brief,  or  of  an  index.  Indeed,  seldom  has  so  helpless  and 
bare  a  literary  offspring  been  ushered  into  an  unkind  and 
exacting  world,  so  free  from  every  accidental  aid  for  self- 
support,  or  incidental  hint  for  the  reader's  guidance.  In 
default  of  such  help  publicly  afforded,  and  in  view  of  an 
annotated  Second  Part  promised  in  the  future,  the  writer 
ventured  to  take  an  unusual  course.  Though  personally 
unknown  to  the  editor,  an  appeal  was  made  to  him  for 
certain  information,  which  presumably  would,  and  for  the 
perfection  of  his  work  necessarily  must,  be  given  hereafter. 
Such  information  would  tend  to  avoid  rash  conclusions,  or 
hasty  generalisations  which  might  legitimately  be  drawn 
from  insufficient,  if  not  from  inexact,  knowledge.  The 
appeal  was  most  courteously  met  and  answered.  And  the 
following  brief  abstract  may  be  considered  a  trustworthy, 
though  informal  apology  for  the  work  as  it  stands,  the  sub- 
stance of  which  the  editor  will  probably  have  no  cause  to 
repudiate  hereafter.  It  may  be  well,  however,  in  the  first 
place,  to  indicate  the  opinion  which  was  arrived  at  indepen- 
dently of  Mr.  Littlehales'  obliging  reply. 

With  some  hesitation — but  also  with  some  confidence — 
the  writer  holds  to  an  opinion  that  the  prymer  now  published 
is — (1)  an  imperfect,  (2)  a  faulty,  and  (3)  a  carelessly-written 
replica  of  a  MS.,  which  possibly,  and  even  probably,  (4)  was, 
at  its  date  of  transcription,  an  unique  specimen,  representing 
only  itself.      This  estimate  of  its  singularity,  with  a  full 


788  An  Early  English  Prymer. 

consciousness  of  the  almost  endless  variations  in  every  part  in 
the  text  of  early  prymers,  can  only,  from  a  want  of  space,  and 
on  the  present  occasion,  be  stated  as  a  mere  opinion,  and  left 
undefended.  Within  the  limits  assigned  to  this  short  review, 
the  other  three  points  must  be  treated  only  in  brief. 

1.  That  the  Prymer  is  a  defective  copy  of  whatsoever  it 
represents,  is  obvious  from  the  unsightly  blank  from  page  42 
to  page  43,  which,  to  the  writer's  literary  taste,  disfigures  the 
reprint ;  and  which,  it  may  be  added,  might  have  been,  and 
should  have  been,  hypothetically  filled,  within  cautionary 
brackets,  with  the  reconstructed  page  in  Appendix  A.  Nor 
is  this  the  only  imperfection  in  the  way  of  omission  which 
the  editor  of  the  MS.  candidly  acknowledges — notably  in  the 
absence  of  the  common  forms  of  prayer  and  instruction  with 
which  prymers  are  usually  ended.  Moreover,  the  prymer 
lacks  many  liturgical  features,  such  as  antiphons,  V.  and  E's., 
prayers,  and  other  devotions,  which  extant  prymers,  nearly 
or  quite  contemporary  with  the  one  under  consideration, 
possess.  For  instance :  the  almost  contemporary  MS. 
edited  by  Mr.  Maskell — whether  or  not  in  this  respect  it  be 
typical — at  the  end  of  Lauds,  and  between  the  Collect  to 
the  Holy  Trinity  and  the  Prayer  for  Peace,  includes  collects, 
with  Ant.,  Vers.,  and  Resp.,  as  follows: — On  the  Passion, 
to  SS.  Michael,  John  Baptist,  Peter  and  Paul,  Andrew, 
Lawrence,  Nicholas,  Margaret  and  Katherine,  for  the  Holy 
Souls,  and  to  all  the  Saints.  These  are  absent  from  the 
MS.  reprinted  by  Mr.  Littlehales,  and  it  is  possible  they 
may  be  exceptionally  placed  in  Mr.  Maskell's  MS. 

2.  The  MS.  would  seem  to  be  faulty  in  many  particulars, 
of  which  one  may  be  named.  The  editor  of  it  keeps  in 
suspense  his  judgment  on  the  contents  of  several  pages, 
and  other  experts  contend  that  the  repetition  of  certain 
suffrages,  &c.,  which  only  occur  at  the  end  of  Lauds,  and 
perhaps  also  of  the  other  short  Hours,  do  not  recur  at  the 
end  of  Evensong,  or  Vespers,  in  MSS.  of  the  first  class, 
even  though  they  may  appear  in  printed  copies  at  a  later 
date.  The  editor,  therefore,  will  be  called  upon,  in  his 
Second  Part,  to  give  his  reasons  for  supporting  the  addition 
at  the  end  of  Evensong  of  the  suffragia,  which  is  justifiably 


An  Early  English  Prymer.  789 

added  at  the  end  of  Lauds,  viz.,  the  Memoriae  cle  Sancto 
Spirito,  de  Sancta  Trinitate,  de  Omnibus  Sanctis,  de  Pace, 
and  to  afford  evidence  that  these  appear  in  the  best  MSS., 
or  in  printed  copies  of  authority 

3.  The  MB. — and  this  criticism  is  beyond  contention — 
has  been  very  carelessly  copied,  not  by  its  modern  editor, 
but  by  its  middle-age  scribe.  The  errors  in  manual  execu- 
tion are  numerous,  and  inexcusable  under  any  conditions. 
Apart  from  the  variations  always  to  be  found  in  the  spelling 
of  Early  Enghsh  books — in  this  book  more  than  ordinarily 
frequent — the  mistakes  of  adding  a  letter,  of  omitting  a 
letter,  of  misplacing  a  letter,  of  placing  one  letter  for 
another,  in  the  present  MS.,  are  of  constant  occurrence. 
For  instance,  Anglice — to  take  but  a  few  random  instances — 
ulessed,  for  blessed  ;  ivordl,  for  tvorld ;  halve,  for  have  ;  thee, 
for  the;  he,  for  the;  ley  I,  for  heyl;  godis,  for  godes  ;  hit,  for  it ; 
his,  for  is.  The  same  word,  also,  is  frequently  met  with,  even 
in  the  same  page,  and  frequently  in  various  pages,  differently 
spelled. 

This  judgment  is  expressed  with  diffidence,  not  only 
because  of  the  qualifications  of  the  reviewer,  of  which  there 
may  be  doubt ;  but  also,  of  the  obscurity  and  difficulty  of  the 
many-sided  topic  reviewed,  of  which  there  can  be  no  doubt. 
For  it  is  certain  that  comparatively  few  persons,  at  the 
present  day,  are  competent  to  offer  a  decided  opinion  on  the 
minutiae  of  the  contents  and  arrangements  of  Barum 
prymers ;  whilst  the  data,  upon  which  any  person  can  form 
a  trustworthy  judgment  in  relation  to  these  liturgical  points, 
are  rare  and  difficult  of  access.  Indeed,  it  may  be  a  question 
whether  there  be  extant  authoritative  MS.  prymers  of  the 
Barum  use,  with  which  to  compare  Mr.  Littlehales'  reprint, 
and  whether  there  ever  existed  an  authoritative  text  in 
mediaeval  times  at  all  comparable  to  the  authorized  text  of 
the  Roman  Missal  since  its  last  reform.  And  it  must  ever  be 
borne  in  mind  that,  in  like  manner,  as  textual  critics  of  the 
New  Testament  do  not  always  accept  a  MS.  in  virtue  of  its 
supposed  early  date  alone,  apart  from  other  considerations,  so 
it  is  with  the  early  prymers.  It  is  not  always  the  most  ancient 
prymer  which  is  of  the  highest  authority ;  a  later  MS.  which 


790  An  Early  English  Prymer, 

remains  may  have  been  copied  from  an  earlier  copy  which 
has  perished ;  and  the  latter  may  be  of  higher  value  than  the 
copy  of  another  early  MS.  which  has  survived.  Under  such 
circumstances  it  behoves  an  editor  to  walk  warily,  and  to 
decide  with  caution ;  and  it  becomes  a  critic  to  write  with 
modesty,  and  to  condemn  (if  he  is  forced  to  condemn)  with 
moderation.  This  will  tend  not  only  to  friendliness  in 
critical  controversy,  but  also  to  the  solution  of  liturgical 
problems,  if  editors  and  reviewers  alike  will  agree  to  give 
and  take,  in  knowledge  and  ignorance  alike,  in  order  that 
eventually  both  may  reach  a  common  goal — a  course  which 
both  may  legitimately  take,  seeing  that  the  goal  is  not  the 
revelation  of  dogmatic  truth,  but  the  exactitude  of  liturgical 
fact,  detail,  and  history. 

But,  even  if  these  criticisms,  which  are  only  specimens 
taken  at  haphazard,  more  of  which  might  be  added,  and 
other  similar  objections,  be  well-founded,  the  book,  in  the 
opinion  of  the  writer,  from  its  date  and  rarity,  from  what 
can  be  proved  of  it  and  what  can  be  intelligently  imagined 
about  it,  is  not  unworthy — indeed  is  well  worthy — of  repro- 
duction. In  any  case,  and  though  a  more  perfect  and 
valuable  MS.  might  have  been  selected,  it  is  a  pure  gain  to 
Catholics  to  possess  the  reprint  of  an  office-book,  which 
may  be  typical,  and  which  certainly  was  used  by  some  pious 
forefather  in  the  faith,  nearly  five  centuries  ago. 

On  the  other  hand,  Mr.  Littlehales,  in  the  preface  and 
notes  to  his  Second  Part,  the  issue  of  which  may  be 
expected  in  the  coming  year,  1892 — and  not,  as  he  rather 
unguardedly  says  in  his  preface,  in  ''  some  few  years'  "  time — 
will  be  able  to  throw  much  light  on  the  above  and  many 
other  collateral  topics  which  are  now  obscure.  He  will 
probably  intimate  that,  although  the  MS.  was  neither  quoted, 
nor  utilized  by  that  great  liturgiologist,  Mr.  Maskell,  he 
may  have  referred  to  it  in  the  second  edition  of  his  Monu- 
menta  Bitualia.  He  will  possibly  contend  that  the  book, 
which  he  has  been  at  the  pains  of  copying  and  at  the  cost 
of  printing,  represents  a  class  which  was  in  common  use  at 
its  date  of  issue — represents  it  more  closely  than  other  and 
^etter-:known  prymers ;  indeed,  represents  the  form  which 


An  Early  English  Prymer.  791 

was  most  widely  accepted  in  England  during  the  Middle 
Ages.  In  spite  of  some  evidence  to  the  contrary,  he  will 
probably  produce  further  evidence  to  show  that  the  MS.  is 
not  only  a  fair  specimen,  but  an  exceedingly  good  specimen, 
both  of  its  class  and  date — a  point  on  which  the  editor 
presumably  has  wider  possibilities  of  forming  a  correct  judg- 
ment than  most  of  his  readers,  and  certainly  than  his  critic. 
Whilst,  if  the  prymer  be  wanting  in  some  features  that 
have  been  glanced  at,  in  which  MSS.  of  primary  value,  or 
authorized  printed  copies,  are  not  deficient,  it  contains 
other  features,  such  as  the  Kalendar  and  Easter-tables, 
in  which  even  prymers  of  the  first  rank  are  sometimes 
deficient.  It  will  not  be  thought  an  unpardonable  indiscretion, 
perhaps,  on  the  part  of  the  present  writer,  if  he  adds  to 
this  supposititious  defence  by  the  editor  of  the  volume,  that 
the  much  desiderated  Second  Part  will  probably  contain,  in 
parallel  columns,  the  contents,  in  an  abbreviated  form,  of 
six  other  prymers — an  addition  which  will  greatly  enhance 
the  value  of  the  work,  and  will  prove  a  welcomed  novelty  in 
comparative  liturgiology  in  the  English  language.  It  is 
much  to  be  hoped  that  these  six  selected  prymers  may  prove 
to  be  not  only  representative  specimens,  but  MSS.  which 
have  not  yet  been  issued  from  the  printing  press.  If 
Mr.  Littlehales  fulfils  these  hypothetical  positions,  he  will 
make  himself  a  double  benefactor  to  the  cause  of  Catholic 
literature.  He  will  have  regained  for  the  Church  not  only 
an  ancient  MS.  of  great  curiosity,  but  an  ancient  MS.  of 
extreme  value.  Whilst  the  publication  of  his  suggested 
Hexapla  of  Prymers — taken  in  conjunction  with  the  issue  of 
a  catalogue  raison7ie,  now  passing  through  the  press,  of  all 
the  English  prymers  that  are  known  to  exist,  which  also,  it 
may  not  be  an  indiscretion  to  mention,  by  the  hand  of 
another  student  of  prymers — will  inaugurate  a  new 
era  in  relation  to  this  department  of  the  science  of 
liturgiology. 

Amongst  other  points  which  may  be  casually  mentioned, 
as  deserving  of  notice  in  this  fourteenth-century  MS.,  these 
which  follow  are  noteworthy,  though  they  be  not  all  quoted 
as  singular ; — the  form  of  its  Gloria  Patri,  "  Joy  to  the 


792  An  Early  English  Prymer. 

Father,"  &c.;  the  graceful  and  poetical  title  of  the  Annun- 
ciation, as  the  "  Greeting  of  our  Lady;"  the  employment  of 
the  relative  "that"  for  ''who"  in  the  Lord's  Prayer,  and 
''our  Lord  "  for  "  the  Lord  "  (though  both  forms  are  used) 
in  the  Ave,  and  elsewhere  ;  the  quaintness  of  some  of  its  ex- 
pressions, "  Holy  God's  Mother,"  for  "  Holy  Mother  of  God ;" 
the  rhythmical  swing  of  some  of  the  versions  of  the  anthems 
of  our  Blessed  Lady,  which  almost  recall  the  poetic  and 
rhythmical  forms  in  common  use  ;  and  the  purity  and  beauty 
of  some  of  the  translations  of  the  collects  and  some  verses  of 
the  psalms — translations  which  here  or  elsewhere  clearly 
inspired  much  of  the  language  of  the  Anglican  Psalter  and 
Book  of  Common  Prayer. 

This  similarity  between  the  Protestant  Prayer  Book  of 
the  sixteenth  century  and  a  Catholic  prymer  of  the 
fourteenth  century,  and  the  indebtedness  which  the  former 
owes  to  the  latter,  leads  by  an  easy  train  of  thought  to  a 
criticism  which  the  writer  feels  bound  to  make.  In  his 
short  preface,  Mr.  Littlehales  allows  himself  to  couple 
together  as  similar  factors  in  religion,  and  to  place  on 
one  historical  or  critical  level  for  purpose  of  comparison, 
"the  Churches  of  England  and  Kome,"  and  the  office-books 
of  either  respectively.  This  apparent  attempt  to  treat 
both  communions  as  co-ordinate  and  co-equal  spiritual 
bodies  need  not  have,  and  has  not,  any  controversial  inten- 
tion. Neither  has  the  criticism  of  this  attempt.  But, 
from  a  liturgiological  view  only  of  the  matter — and  not 
from  an  historical,  dogmatic,^  or  moral  view — it  surely  is 
utterly  uncritical  to  compare  a  Catholic  office-book  with  a 
Protestant  book  of  devotion ;  or  an  office  replete  and  instinct 
with  Catholic  truth  in  word  and  act  and  intention,  and  a 
mere  outward  form  and  imitation  of  the  same,  in  which  the 
whole  intention,  e.g.,  of  sacrifice,  is  deliberately  omitted ; 
the  whole  action  indicative  of  the  supernatural  in  presence, 
person  and  power,  is  suppressed,  and  every  word  of  the 
language  with  a  dogmatic  leaning  to  Cathohcity  is  altered  to 
suit  the  Protestant  misbelief  of  the  sixteenth  century.  For 
instance :  what  central  point,  or  pervading  truth,  fact,  or 
mystery,  in  the  Office  of  Our  Lady,  or  in  the  Office  of  the 


A71  Early  English  Prymer,  793 

Dead,  which  Mr.  Littlehales  names,  or  in  that  of  the  divine 
mystery  of  the  Holy  Mass  which  he  does  not  name,  can 
be  found  in  the  Common  Prayer  Book  of  the  State-Estab- 
Hshed  EeHgion  ?  To  attempt  to  compare  such  incomparable 
objects  is  to  strive  to  make  two  lines  meet  which  lie  in 
different  planes.  Both  are  insoluble  problems.  Notwith- 
standing this  liturgiological  slip  of  the  pen — may  it  be  called 
even  a  solecism  ? — the  mention  of  which  he  will  pardon  as 
inevitable  in  a  Catholic  review,  by  a  Catholic  reviewer, 
Mr.  Littlehales  must  be,  and  is,  heartily  thanked  for  his 
sumptuous  and  comparatively  inexpensive  reproduction  of 
this  old  English  book  of  devotion  to  our  Blessed  Lady.  He 
will  not  consider  the  gratitude  expressed  less  warm  if  a  final 
proposition  be  made,  on  behalf  of  the  less  learned  reader 
whom  he  probably  wishes  to  instruct,  as  well  as  to  edify  the 
more  learned.  The  proposal  amounts  to  this :  to  keep  the 
present  volume  in  print  for  the  satisfaction  of  liturgical 
experts  and  students ;  but,  together  with  the  valuable  and 
contemplated  Hexapla,  to  add  in  a  supplemental  volume  the 
present  MS.  in  a  form  "  under standed  of  the  people."  In 
other  terms,  to  print  this  fourteenth-century  prymer  in  the 
language  and  manner  of  the  nineteenth  century,  with 
modernized  spelling  (without  contractions),  the  grammar  of 
the  day,  and  the  usual  punctuation ;  together  with  a  division 
of  integral  parts  and  verses ;  and  also  with  the  addition  of 
the  details  alluded  to  at  the  outset  of  this  notice  as  having 
been  omitted — and,  in  the  light  of  an  effort  to  instruct  the 
average  reader,  it  may  be  said,  as  having  been  unhappily 
omitted. 

Orby  Shipley. 


[  794  ] 


SOME  KECOLLECTIONS  OF  FATHEK  PETEK 
KENNEY,  S.J.,  AS  A  PKEACHEE.i 

THOUGH  nearly  twenty  years  have  passed  away  since  I 
saw  or  heard  Father  Kenney,  I  have  a  very  distinct  recol- 
lection of  him.  The  first  trace  of  his  luminous  and  powerful 
mind  I  saw  was  in  some  manuscript  meditations  which  he 
composed  during  the  short  period  of  his  holding  the  office 
of  vice-president  in  this  college  (Nov.,  1812,  to  Nov  ,  1813), 
copies  of  which  were  handed  down  through  some  of  the  college 
officials.  It  was  in  the  second  or  third  year  of  my  course 
(I  entered  college  in  the  end  of  August,  1829)  that  I  was 
fortunate  enough  to  obtain  the  loan  of  a  copy  of  some  of 
these  meditations — how  I  now  utterly  forget.  But  I 
remember  well  that  I  was  quite  enchanted  with  them — 
they  were  so  different  from  anything  of  the  kind  I  had  up 
to  that  time  ever  seen.  I  transcribed  as  many  of  them  as  I 
could — they  were  given  to  me  only  for  a  short  period — into 
a  blank  paper  book  which  I  have  still  in  my  possession. 

He  conducted  our  September  retreat  some  time  towards 
the  end  of  my  college  course.  This  was  the  first  time  I 
heard  him.  Subsequently  I  heard  him  several  times  when 
conducting  the  July  retreat  for  priests  in  this  college.  The 
last  time  I  ever  heard  him  was  in  Gardiner-street,  two  or 
three  years  before  his  death,  on  the  Feast  of  St  Francis 
Xavier. 

I  have  heard  but  few  pulpit  celebrities  in  my  time,  and 
therefore  I  do  not  fully  convey  my  appreciation  of  Father 
Kenney's  excellence  in  that  line  by  merely  saying  that, 
according  to  my  idea  of  the  nature  of  true  pulpit  eloquence, 
he  greatly  surpassed  the  best  of  them.  His  eloquence  was 
not  only  superior  in  degree  ;  it  was  of  a  different  order.  I 
once  heard  the  late  Dr.  Cahill,  when  he  was  at  the  zenith  of 

'  This  essay  was  found  amon*,'  the  papers  of  the  late  Very  Rev.  Dr. 
Murray,  Professor  of  Theology  in  Maynooth  College.  It  is  noted  in  the 
manuscript,  in  the  handwriting  of  Dr.  Murray  himself,  that  the  paper  was 
written  some  time  between  the  close  of  the  summer  of  1868  and  th^ 
jumpier  pf  186^. 


Some  Becollections  of  Father  Peter  Kenney,  S.J.       795 

his  fame.  It  would  be  most  mifair  to  judge  of  the  general 
character  of  his  eloquence  from  the  specimen  I  then  wit- 
nessed— for  the  subject  was  a  hackneyed  one,  and  therefore 
not  well  calculated  to  quicken  the  mental  energy.  Nothing 
could  be  more  perfect  than  his  delivery — in  truth,  it  was 
somewhat  too  perfect ;  the  sentiments  simple  and  clear ; 
no  gaps  and  no  redundancy ;  the  whole  went  on  in  an  easy 
and  graceful  flow,  closing,  too,  at  the  proper  time ;  that  is, 
before  any  of  the  hearers  began  to  wish  for  a  close.  It  stole 
away  the  ear  and  the  fancy  like  a  fine  piece  of  music.  But 
it  was  more  of  a  polished  philosophical  lecture  than  what 
I  think  a  sermon  addressed  to  an  ordinary  congregation 
should  be.  I  am  far  from  saying  that  St.  Paul  would  have 
censured  it ;  but  I  think  he  would  not  have  overmuch 
admired  it. 

Father  Kenney  aimed  not  at  the  ear  or  the  fancy,  but, 
through  the  understanding,  at  the  heart.  Not  to  steal  it ; 
he  seized  it  at  once ;  and  in  his  firm  grasp  held  it  beating 
quick  in  its  rapt  and  willing  captivity.  In  writing  down 
these  memories  of  him  I  try  to  revive  and  reahze  the  past 
as  faithfully  as  I  can,  and  am  not  conscious  of  using  the 
language  of  exaggeration ;  but  it  may  be  fair  to  say  that  I 
all  along  speak  from  the  impressions  of  those  young  and 
perhaps  too  easily  susceptible  days. 

The  only  other  orator  whom  I  ever  thought  of  comparing 
him  to  was  Daniel  O'Connell.  I  recollect  that,  while  both 
were  yet  living,  I  remarked,  in  a  conversation  with  a  very 
intelligent  friend  on  Father  Kenney's  great  powers,  that  he 
was  the  "  O'Connell  of  the  pulpit."  My  friend  not  only  fully 
agreed  with  me,  but  expressed  his  surprise  that  the 
resemblance  had  never  occurred  to  himself.  The  reason  it 
did  not  occur  to  him  was,  no  doubt,  that  ordinarily  men  do 
not  think  of  searching  for  such  comparisons  out  of  the 
species,  but  set  off  pulpit  orators  against  pulpit  orators,  as 
they  set  off  bar  orators  against  bar  orators,  and  parliamen- 
tary against  parliamentary. 

Overwhelming  strength  and  all-subduing  pathos  were  the 
leading,  as  they  were  the  common,  characteristics  of  these 
two  extraordinary  raen,     I  say  nothing  of  clearness,  preoi- 


796      Some  BecoUections  of  Father  Peter  Kenney,  S,J., 

sion,  and  those  other  conditions  which  must  be  found  in  all 
good  composition,  whether  written  or  spoken,  and  especially 
in  oratory  addressed  to  the  many,  without  which  all  seeming 
or  so-called  eloquence  is  mere  hurdy-gurdy  chattering. 
Also,  I  say  nothing  of  O'Connell's  inimitable  and  irresistible 
humour.  There  are,  undoubtedly,  certain  occasions  on  which 
this  talent  may  be  exercised  in  the  pulpit.  But  Father 
Kenney,  if  he  possessed  it,  never  in  the  least  degree  displayed 
it.  I  never  saw  a  more  serious  countenance  than  his  was 
on  every  occasion  of  my  hearing  him.  Not  solemn,  not 
severe,  but  serious,  and  attractively  and  winningly  so. 
There  he  stood — or  sat,  as  the  case  might  be — as  if  he  had 
a  special  commission  direct  from  heaven,  on  the  due  discharge 
of  which  might  depend  his  own  salvation  and  that  of  every 
soul  present.  Indeed  so  deeply  did  he  seem  to  be  penetrated 
with  the  importance  of  his  sacred  theme  ;  so  entirely  did  the 
persuasion  of  that  importance  display  itself  in  his  whole 
manner,  that  his  discourses  appeared  to  be  the  simple 
utterances  of  what  his  heart  and  soul  had  learned  or  digested 
in  a  long  and  absorbing  meditation  before  the  crucifix.  That 
they  often  were,  in  fact,  such  utterances,  I  have  no  doubt 
whatever ;  one  instance  of  this  I  once,  by  mere  accident, 
happened  to  witness  with  my  own  eyes. 

In  another  point  he  also  strikingly  resembled  O'Connell. 
He  never  indulged  in  those  poetic  flights  of  fancy  which 
delight  only,  or  mainly,  for  their  own  sake.  Imagination  he, 
of  course,  had,  and  of  a  high  order,  too  ;  otherwise  he  could 
never  have  been  a  true  orator.  But  it  was  imagination 
subservient,  not  dominant ;  penetrating  the  main  idea  as  a 
kindling  spark  of  life,  not  glittering  idly  round  about  it ;  the 
woof  interwoven  with  the  warp,  not  the  gaudy  fringe 
dangling  at  the  end  of  the  texture.  You  will  find  none  of 
these  poetic  flights  to.  which  I  allude  in  Demosthenes  or 
Cicero,  in  Chrysostom  or  Bourdaloue  ;  and  where  they  are 
found  in  modern  orators  of  high  name,  they  are  blemishes 
not  beauties.  Of  course,  too,  he  had  great  felicity  of  diction, 
which  is  equally  essential — using  the  very  words  and  phrases 
which  above  all  others  exactly  suited  the  thought,  and  set  it 
off  in  its  best  light ;  so  that  the  substitution  of  any  words 


as  a  Preacher,  797 

would  be  at  once  felt  as  an  injury,  like  the  touch  of  an 
inferior  artist  covering  the  delicate  lines  of  a  master.  This 
was  all  the  more  wonderful  as  I  believe  he  received  his 
higher  education  rather  late  in  life,  and  was  never  very  deep 
in  English  literature.  But,  as  mere  talent  draws  but  little 
from  a  great  heap,  keeping  that  little  as  it  was  got,  so  true 
genius  out  of  the  scanty  makes  much,  and  out  of  the  little 
great.  What  one  man  can  construct  out  often  lines,  another 
man  will  require  ten  pages  to  find  constructed  there. 

Keal  eloquence  must  be  the  offspring  of  genius,  but  of 
genius  well  cultivated  and  tutored.  Of  course  I  put  aside 
the  wonderful  effects  produced  by  the  words  of  the  saints — ■ 
sermons,  instructions,  call  them  what  you  will — as  in  the 
case  of  the  Cure  of  Ars  in  our  own  day.  It  was  not  what 
we  call  eloquence  that  did  this  ;  it  was  not  the  preacher,  but 
the  saint ;  it  was  not  the  sermon  in  itself  or  in  its  delivery  ; 
it  was,  if  I  may  so  speak,  the  ardour  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
with  which  it  came  laden  from  the  heart  and  the  lips. 

There  have  been  saints  whose  very  appearance  in  the 
pulpit,  accompanied  by  a  few  broken  sentences,  melted  every 
heart  and  moistened  every  eye.  Saints  do  these  things,  and 
it  is  one  of  the  ways  in  which  God  is  wonderful  in  them. 
But  men  even  of  exalted  piety,  yet  not  saints  in  the  higher 
sense  of  the  word,  must,  to  borrow  the  sentiment  of 
St.  Ignatius,  cultivate  their  natural  powers,  and  work  as 
earnestly  and  assiduously  in  doing  so  as  if  success  depended 
entirely  on  their  own  exertions — then  calmly  leaving  the 
whole  issue  in  the  hands  of  God,  as  if  all  depended  entirely 
on  Him.  To  those  who  have  any  natural  impediments  to 
overcome,  this  sort  of  labour  may  be  severe  and  protracted 
before  its  end  be'fully  attained.  But  I  should  imagine  that, 
in  most  truly  great  orators,  the  gifts  that  go  to  constitute 
the  character  are  so  abundantly  supplied  by  nature,  that 
the  labour,  at  least  after  a  short  time,  is  but  a  labour  of 
love. 

However  this  may  be.  Father  Kenney  had,  like  O'Connell, 
attained  that  highest  perfection  of  his  art,  which  consists  in 
so  appearing,  that  no  one  dreams  of  any  culture  or  art 
having    been    used — according  to  the   well-known  saying, 


798      Some  BecoUections  of  Father  Peter  Kenney,  S.J,, 

"  Summae  artis  artem  celare."  So  perfect  was  O'Connell  in 
this  respect,  that,  though  I  heard  him  often  in  the  winter  of 
1837-38,  and  in  the  following  years,  it  never  once  entered  my 
mind  to  suspect  that  he  had  ever  given  any  great  attention 
to  oratory  as  an  art.  His  delivery  always  appeared  to  me 
spontaneous  and  unstudied,  as  are  the  movements  and 
prattle  of  a  child. 

It  was  only  after  his  death  that  I  learned  from  some 
published  memorials  of  him,  and  was  at  the  time  surprised 
to  learn,  that  in  early  life  he  had  taken  great  pains  in  forming 
his  manner,  and  in  particular  that  he  had  marked  and 
studied  with  care  the  tones  and  modulations  of  voice  for 
which  the  younger  Pitt  was  so  famous.  Father  Kenney,  like 
O'Connell,  used  hardly  any  gesture.  His  voice  was  power- 
ful, and  at  the  same  time  pleasing ;  but  I  do  not  remember 
to  have  ever  heard  from  him  any  of  those  soft,  pathetic 
tones  sometimes  used  by  O'Connell,  which  winged  his  words 
to  the  heart,  and  the  sound  of  which  even  at  this  distant 
period  seems  still  to  vibrate  in  my  ears. 

Father  Kenney  was  eminently  a  theological  preacher,  and 
this  too  without  the  slightest  tinge  of  that  pedantry  and 
affectation  always  so  offensive  to  good  taste,  but  peculiarly 
so  in  the  pulpit.  Indeed  he  was  the  only  preacher  I  ever 
heard  who  possessed  the  marvellous  power  of  fusing  the 
hardest  and  most  abstruse  scholasticisms  into  forms  that  at 
once  imparted  to  them  clearness  and  simplicity,  without  in 
the  least  degree  lessening  their  weight  and  dignity. 

I  give  this  characteristic  of  him  partly  from  what  I 
witnessed  myself,  and  partly  from  what  I  heard  from  others. 
Many  years  ago  I  was  told  so  by  a  very  competent  judge  of  a 
sermon  of  this  kind,  on  the  mystery  of  the  Trinity,  preached 
by  him,  I  think,  in  Gardiner-street.  A  sermon  which  he 
preached  in  Belfast  at  the  consecration  of  the  late  Arch- 
bishop Crolly  as  bishop  of  Down  and  Connor  (1825)  was 
one  of  his  most  successful  efforts.  It  was  on  ''  The 
Triumphs  of  the  Church  ;"  and  so  powerful  was  the 
impression  made  by  it  that  for  many  years  afterwards  the 
substance  of  it  used  to  be  recounted  by  some  who  had  not 
heard  it  themselves,  but  received  the  report  from  those  who 


as  a  Preacher.  799 

had.  I  myself  once  heard  one  of  these  outHiies  from  the 
hps  of  a  friend,  who  was  too  yomig  to  be  present  on  the 
occasion,  or  to  comprehend  the  subject  fully  if  he  had  been 
present. 

I  have  never  had  any  direct  testimony  given  to  me  of 
Father  Kenney's  theological  acquirements.  But  that  he  was 
a  profound  theologian  I  concluded,  not  so  much  from  the 
theological  character  just  mentioned  of  many  of  his  sermons, 
as  from  other  circumstances  quite  satisfactory  to  my  mind, 
but  too  minute  to  be  recorded  here. 

It  was  only  in  their  declining  years — within  the  last  ten 
of  their  lives — that  I  heard  either  of  these  two  great  men, 
O'Connell  and  Father  Kenney.  If  the  Odyssey  of  the  life  of 
each  shone  with  such  brightness,  what  must  have  been  the 
glowing  splendour  of  its  Iliad  ? 

I  am  not  aware  that  Father  Kenney  left  any  written 
memorials  of  his  powers,  except  the  few  meditations  alluded 
to  in  the  beginning  of  this  paper.  I  heard,  I  think  from 
one  of  the  Jesuit  Fathers,  about  ten  months  before  Father 
Kenney'^  death,  that  he  rarely,  if  ever,  wrote  his  sermons. 

Allow  me  to  add,  as  a  not  inappropriate  pendant,  the 
following  extract  from  a  letter  of  Lord  Jeffrey,  written  in 
1833 ;  he  was  at  the  time  member  of  Parliament  for  Edin- 
burgh : — 

"He  (O'Connell)  is  a  great  artist.  In  my  opinion,  indis- 
putably the  greatest  orator  in  the  house :  nervous,  passionate, 
without  art  or  ornament  ;  concise,  intrepid,  terrible;  far  more  in 
the  style  of  old  Demosthenic  directness  and  vehemence  than  any- 
thing I  have  ever  heard  in  this  modern  world  ;  yet  often  coarse, 
and  sometimes  tiresome,  as  Demosthenes  was  too,  though  ven- 
turing far  less,  and  going  over  far  less  ground. "—(Cockburn's-L^/b 
of  Jeffrey,  vol.  i.,  p.  344.) 

P.  MUEKAY. 


[     800     ] 


SEN  (OLD)  PATEICK,  WHO  WAS  HE  ? 

IN  some  sciences  it  has  passed  into  an  axiom  "  that 
entities  should  not  be  multipHed  without  necessity," 
and  it  were  well  to  apply  the  axiom  to  the  domain  of  history. 
Nothing  should  be  admitted  for  fact  without  fair  evidence, 
especially  if  the  proposed  fact  be  far-reaching  in  its  conse- 
quences or  revolutionary  of  well-established  views  of  history. 
Now,  of  such  a  character  is  the  existence  or  identity  of  Sen 
Patrick.  He  is  generally  admitted  to  have  been  a  contem- 
porary of  our  national  saint  and  his  fellow-labourer  on 
the  Irish  mission.  But  though  Sen  Patrick  figures  almost 
as  prominently  as  our  great  St.  Patrick  in  the  opening 
chapters  of  Irish  Church  history,  to  our  mind  he  is,  as 
represented  by  most  Patrician  biographers,  no  better  than  a 
myth .  The  violence  offered  to  the  human  system  from  the 
introduction  of  a  foreign  body  is  no  less  real  than  what  is 
suffered  from  facts  being  grouped  around  a  mythical  per- 
sonage :  and  if  the  identity  of  Sen  Patrick  has  not  been 
yet  established,  then  indeed  there  has  been  an  unnatural 
displacement  of  facts,  and  then  at  the  very  outset  there  has 
been  initiated  a  slovenly  and  uncritical  method  of  dealing 
with  the  evidences  of  history. 

1.  The  Calendar  of  Cashel  commemorates  Patrick  Senior 
under  the  24th  of  August,  and  adds  that  while  some  said  he 
was  buried  in  Kos-dela,  in  the  region  of  Magh-lacha,  others, 
with  more  truth,  state  he  was  buried  in  Glastonbury,  and 
that  his  relics  are  preserved  in  the  shrine  of  Patrick  Senior 
in  Armagh.^ 

2.  The  ancient  Irish  schoHast  states  that  ''our  national 
apostle  promised  Patrick  Senior  that  both  of  them  would 
ascend  together  to  heaven.  Hence  some  say  that  the  soul 
of  St.  Patrick  awaited  the  death  of  Patrick  Senior  from  the 
17th  of  March  to  the  end  of  August.  Some  state  that 
Patrick  Senior  was  buried  in  Ros-dela,  while  others,  with 
more  truth,  state  that  he  was  buried  in  Glastonbury.'" 

1  Here  we  see  the  reluctance  to  admit  any  person  to  be  older  tliau  our 
national  saint. 

^  Tr.  Thaiimaturgas,  page  6. 


Sen  {old)  Patrick,  who  was  he  /  801 

3.  The  Calendar  of  Saints,  written  by  Aengus  the  Culdee, 
while  commemorating  the  saints  mider  the  24th  of  August, 
states  that  "  old  Patrick  was  the  champion  of  battle,  and  the 
lovable  tutor  to  our  sage."  A  glossarist  of  the  fifteenth 
century  adds  that  he  was  buried  in  Glastonbury. 

4.  The  Annals  of  the  Four  Masters  state,  under  the 
year  457,  that  old  Patrick  ''breathed  forth  his  soul."  The 
Annals  of  Ulster  make  the  same  remark ;  but  a  copy  of  the 
Annals  of  Connaught,  quoted  by  Ussher,  states  that  he  died 
in  the  year  453.  The  Chro7iico?i  Scotorum  assigns  his  death 
to  454.  The  Booh  of  Lecan,  in  its  list  of  St.  Patrick's 
household,  gives  old  Patrick  as  ''  the  head  of  all  his  wise 
seniors.  Some  ancient  authorities  suggest  that  the  death  of 
Patrick  happened  in  the  year  461  or  465,^  from  which  it  is 
inferred  there  was  reference  to  old  Patrick;  for  our  Irish 
annalists  assign  generally  the  death  of  our  national  saint  to 
the  year  493. 

5.  I  may  remark  that  the  sixth  life  of  St.  Patrick,  written 
in  the  twelfth  century,  makes  mention  of  a  Patrick,  nephew 
of  our  national  saint,  who  on  the  death  of  his  alleged  uncle 
left  Ireland,  and  was  buried  in  Glastonbury.  Later  histo- 
rians have  called  him  Junior  Patrick,  in  reference  to  his 
supposed  uncle,  our  national  apostle.^ 

6.  While  Irish  annals  and  calendars  recognise  the 
existence  of  old  Patrick,  the  primatial  list  of  bishops  ranks 
him  amongst  its  metropolitans,  and  define  the  length  of 
time  during  which  he  occupied  the  see.  Let  us  glance  at 
the  first  bishops  of  Armagh  : — 

Yellow  Booh  of  Lecaji. 


Patritius  .  .  .  xxii. 
Sechnall  .  .  .  xiii. 
Sen  Patrick        .         .        x. 


The  Psalter  of  Cashel  gives — 

Patritius. 

Secundinus  (sat.)  vi,  or  xvi. 

Patrick  Senior,  x.  years. 

Booh  of  Leinster  gives — 

Patrick,  Ixiiii.  years  from  his  coming  to  Erin  till  his  death. 
Sechnall,  xiii. 
Sen  Patrick,  ii. 

^  Documeiita  de  S.  Pat7'itio,  lesimedlj  edited  by  Rev.  E.  Ilogaii,  S.J., 
page  58. 

2  Trias  Thaum.^  page  106* 

VOL.  XII.  3  E 


802  Sen  (old)  Patrick,  ivho  ivas  he  / 

We  have  now  noticed  the  principal  events  on  which  the 
theories  about  Sen  Patrick  have  been  grounded ;  but  before 
reviewing  these  I  may  at  once  say  that  Sen  Patrick,  to  my 
mind,  is  no  other  thanPalladius,  who  preceded,  about  a  year, 
our  national  apostle  on  the  Irish  mission. 

7.  Dr.  Lanigan  maintains  that  Sen  Patrick  was  no  other 
than  our  national  saint,  aiid  that  there  was  only  one  Patrick 
in  the  early  Irish  Church ;  but  the  Book  of  Armagh  and 
other  documents  clearly  establish  that  Palladius  also  was 
called  Patrick,^  and  it  is  no  less  certain,  notwithstanding  the 
opposite  opinion  of  Dr.  Lanigan,  that  the  term  Old  was 
applied  to  a  Patrick,  not  for  his  absolute,  but  relative  age. 
The  opinion  then  of  Dr.  Lanigan  is  groundless. 

8.  The  Bollandists  suggest  (vol.  ii.,  March;  vol.  iv.,  Sep.) 
that  a  Patrick  was  called  Sen,  that  is,  Patrick  Sen,  as  being 
the  son  of  Sen,  brother  to  our  great  saint.  Nothing  could  be 
more  unnatural  than  this  view.^  Every  Irish  writer  has  asso- 
ciated Sen  Patrick  with  only  one  person,  and  made  Sen  only 
a  qualitative  adjective.  The  idea  of  a  nephew  having  been 
with  our  apostle  in  Ireland  till  his  death,  cannot  be  enter- 
tained. The  learned  Bollandists,  relying  on  the  primatial 
list  of  bishops,  state  that  Sen  Patrick  was  successor  to  his 
uncle.  The  only  objection  raised  by  Dr.  Todd  against  this 
statement  is,  that  he  was  only  coadjutor  to  the  great  St. 
Patrick.  The  Confession  leads  to  the  belief  that  our  saint 
after  entering  on  the  Irish  mission  never  after  saw  his 
country  or  relatives. 

9.  Another  theory,  advocated  by  Petrie  and  Dr.  Moran,^ 
states  that  Sen  Patrick  came  from  Wales  ;  that  he  co- 
operated with  our  national  apostle  in  the  conversion  of 
Ireland  ;  that  at  the  close  of  his  life  he  returned  to  Wales ; 
and  that  a  portion  of  his  relics  are  in  Armagh  and  Glaston- 
bury. Dr.  Moran  added  that  Sen  Patrick's  "  place  is  well 
defined  in  Celtic  records."  Why,  the  case  is  quite  otherwise. 
The  venerable  Speckled  Book  gives  him  no  place  at  all  in  the 

^  Documenta,  &c.,  page  89. 

^  On  the  same  wild  system  of  genealogical  derivation  some  improbable 
lives  ot  St.  Senau  of  Scattery  made  him  successor  to  our  national  saint.  • 
•  Dublin  Review,  April,  1S80. 


Sen  (old)  Patrick,  wlio  was  he  f  808 

list  of  primates.  And  if  we  turn  to  the  essays  of  Dr.  Moran, 
we  see  that  he  there  makes  Sen  Patrick  not  a  Welshman, 
but  an  Irishman  and  a  pagan,  who  in  Glastonbury  instructed 
our  national  saint,  and  in  consequence  was  rewarded  with 
the  gift  of  faith.  For  these  assertions  there  is  not  a  tittle  of 
evidence.  Dr.  Moran  concludes  the  article  in  the  Dublin 
licvlew  l)y  stating  there  were  four  Patricks  in  the  first  age 
of  the  Irish  Church,  each  having  a  fixed  place  in  history  .- 
but  it  is  clear  to  my  mind  there  was  only  one  Patrick. 

10.  Nothing  can  be  more  unsettled  than  the  position 
assigned  to  Sen  Patrick  by  modern  historians,  because,  as 
understood  by  them,  he  did  not  exist.  They  copied  self- 
contradictory  annalists.  Now,  the  primatial  succession 
starts  either  with  the  episcopate  of  our  apostle  or  the 
foundation  of  Armagh  :  if  with  the  former,  the  lists  should 
include  Palladius,  Ireland's  first  bishop ;  if  with  the  latter, 
how  can  Secundinus  be  included,  as  he  is  represented  by 
Irish  annalists  to  have  sat  during  six,  thirteen,  or  sixteen 
years,  and  to  have  died  in  the  year  448,  though  the  see  was 
not  founded  till  the  year  455.^  Moreover,  the  Psalter  of 
Casliel  makes  Sen  Patrick  third  in  succession  to  the  great 
St.  Patrick,  with  Secundinus  as  intermediary  (see  sec.  6) : 
the  Yellow  Booh  of  Lecan  does  the  same,  with  this  difference, 
that  it  allows  Secundinus  to  intervene  between  Sen  Patrick 
and  the  great  St.  Patrick  during  thirteen  years,  rather  six  or 
sixteen,  as  stated  by  the  Psalter ;  and  the  Book  of  Leinster 
allows  only  two  years  to  the  episcopate  of  Sen  Patrick,  while 
the  other  lists  gave  variously  to  it  ten  and  thirteen  years. 
The  Book  of  Leinster,  in  grouping  some  remarkable  events 
under  several  reigns,  states  that  Secundinus  and  Sen  Patrick 
died  during  the  reign  of  King  Laogaire,  428-463,  but  gives 
the  death  of  '*  Patrick,  bishop  of  the  Irish  "  under  the  reign 
of  Lugaid,  488-503 ;  yet  its  list  of  bishops  gives  not  a  Patrick 
for  many  years  after  the  death  of  Sen  Patrick.  In  sober 
truth,  the  references  to  Sen  Patrick  in  Irish  annals  were  only 
an  undigested  reproduction  of  the  baseless  legends  found  in 
Norman  chronicles. 

1  Documenta,  &c.,  page  'J2. 


804  Seji  (old)  Patrick,  who  was  he  / 

The  first  mention  of  Sen  Patrick  in  Irish  annals  does 
not  appear  earher  than  the  tenth  century ;  but  long  before 
that  time  the  monks  of  Glastonbury  claimed  the  honour  of 
his  having  been  abbot  of  the  monastery.  The  monastic 
chronicles  state  that  St.  Patrick  after  converting  Ireland 
retired  to  Glastonbury  in  the  year  433;  or,  according  to 
others,  449 ;  that  he  was  sent  in  the  year  425,  in  the  sixty- 
third  year  of  his  age,  to  Ireland  by  Pope  Celestine;  that 
after  spending  eight  years  in  Ireland  he  retired  to  Glaston- 
bury, which  he  governed  as  abbot  for  thirty-nine  years ;  and 
that  he  died  in  the  year  472,  in  the  one  hundred  and  eleventh 
year  of  his  age.^  All  these  statements  in  reference  to  our 
national  saint  are  discredited  either  by  the  Book  of  Arinagh 
or  the  Confession.  In  point  of  fact,  the  connection  of  our 
saint  after  consecration  with  Glastonbury  has  no  better 
foundation  than  either  the  vision  of  one  monk,  the  dream  of 
another,  or  some  false  document  purporting  to  be  written  by 
St.  Patrick  himself.  Even  William  of  Malmesbury,  who 
stood  up  for  the  Antiquities  of  Glastonbury,  mentions  with 
doubt  the  burial  of  St.  Patrick  there ;  but  states  that  he  was 
consecrated  by  Pope  Celestine," and  educated  by  Germanus  of 
Auxerre.^ 

The  consecration  by  Pope  Celestine,  mentioned  by  the 
Glastonbury  writers  could  be  attributed  to  Palladius,  called 
for  some  time  Patrick,  but  not  to  our  national  saint.  The 
older  Patrick  is  said  to  have  been  sent  so  early  as  the  year 
425,  whereas  our  national  saint  did  not  come  to  Ireland  till 
432.  He  died  in  Saul,  county  Down,  whereas  Palladius 
died  after  landing  in  Wales  and  leaving  Ireland,  on  his  way 
to  Eome.  Glastonbury  chronicles  state  that  St.  Patrick 
was  a  pupil  of  St.  Germanus,  and  converted  Ireland  after 
labouring  there  several  years ;  this  was  true  of  our  national 
saint,  but  not  of  Palladius;  for  the  Book  of  Armagh  states 
that  the  Irish  mission  of  Palladius  was  a  failure ;  that  his 
stay  in  Ireland  was  brief;  that  his  death  was  immediately  after 
landing  in  Wales,  and  that  he  patronized  Germanus.     The 

'  Ussher,  Priniordia,  &c.,  pp.  125,  888,  893. 
^  De  Gestis  Pontijicam  Anglorum,  lib.  "2. 


Sen  (old)  Patrick,  who  teas  he  ?  805 

legendary  chronicles  state  that  Patrick  left  after  him  in 
Glastonbury  an  autobiographical  notice,  and  that  he  was  a 
Briton.  Our  national  saint  was,  indeed,  a  Welsh  Briton, 
and  wrote  his  Confession  not  in  Glastonbury,  but  in 
Ireland. 

The  Annals  of  Connaught,  under  the  year  453,  register 
the  death  of  Old  Patrick,  bishop  of  Glastonbury.  Further- 
more, Kalph  of  Chester,  writing  of  the  Patrick  who  was 
said  to  have  been  buried  in  Glastonbury,  states  that  he  was 
commemorated  on  the  24th  August  as  one  who,  finding  the 
Irish  people  rebellious,  turned  his  back  on  them,  and  retiring 
to  Glastonbury,  died  there  on  the  24th  of  August.^  Now,  we 
must  infer  that  the  Patrick  of  Glastonbury  was  the  Ben 
Patrick  commemorated  in  Irish  calendars  on  the  24th  of 
August  (see  sees.  1,  2);  and  that  Sen  Patrick,  mentioned  in 
the  Polychronicon  of  Ealph  as  having  found  the  Irish 
rebellious,  having  abandoned  them,  and  as  having  returned 
to  Glastonbury,  is  no  other  than  Palladius,  is  made  evident 
by  the  Book  of  Armagh.  For  it  states,  in  reference  to  the 
bad  reception  which  the  Irish  gave  to  Palladius,  as  follows : — 
"Neither  did  these  fierce  and  savage  men  receive  his 
doctrine  readily,  nor  did  he  himself  wish  to  spend  time  in  a 
land  not  his  own,  but  he  returned  to  him  who  sent  him."^ 

Here,  then,  we  have  Irish  martyrologies  and  the  Book  of 
Armagh  identifying  the  Patrick  of  the  Saxon  chronicles  with 
Sen  Patrick,  or  Palladius. 

12.  Lives  of  the  Irish  saints,  compiled  in  the  eleventh 
century,  contain  a  notice  of  Sen  Patrick,  from  which  we 
may  infer  that  he  was  no  other  than  Palladius.  The  lives, 
full  of  anachronisms,  state  that  Saints  Dechan,  Ailbe,  Ibar, 
and  Ciaran,  were  contemporaneous  bishops  in  Ireland  before 
St.  Patrick,  and  that  Palladius  preceded  him  by  many  years. 
Palladius  is  represented  as  having  baptized  St.  Ailbe  on  the 
confines  of  Munster  and-  Leinster  ;3  and  turning  to  the  life  of 
St.  Alban,  nephew  of  Bishop  Ibar,  we  learn  that  the  birth  of 

'  Polychronicon,  lib.  6,  cap.  4. 
2  Docuinenta,  &c.,  page  25. 

^AA.  SS.  Hibernise,  ex  Manuscripto  Salman.,  Bollandistis,  page  237, 
an.  1888. 


806  Sen  (old)  Fatrich,  who  loas  he  ? 

the  saint  was  foretold  by  Patrick,  "chief  father  of  Ireland;"'^ 
and  that  while  this  Patrick  was  in  the  south  of  Leinster,  St. 
Ibar ,  St.  Alban,  and  Sen  Patrick  encountered  a  monster  of  the 
deep  in  Wexford  bay.  Now  as  this  district  is  admitted  to 
have  been  the  scene  of  Palladius'  labours,  and  as  he  and  Sen 
Patrick  are  represented  as  contemporaries  a  long  time  before 
our  national  saint,  we  may  infer  that  Sen  Patrick  was  the 
Palladius  mentioned  in  the  life  of  St.  Ailbe.  The  anachron- 
isms that  disfigure  the  lives  have  perplexed  historians. 
Thus  Declan,  Ailbe,  Ibar,  and  Ciaran,  are  falsely  stated  to 
have  preceded  our  national  saint ;  thus  Palladius  in  the  Life 
of  St.  Ailbe,  is  represented  as  contemporary  with  Conchobar 
M'Nessa  in  the  first  century  ;  though,  according  to  the  Book 
oj  Armagh,  he  scarcely  by  a  year  preceded  our  national  saint 
on  the  Irish  mission,  yet  the  Irish  lives  separate  them  by  an 
interval  of  four  hundred  years  ;  and  though  they  make  Sen 
Patrick  contemporary  with  Palladius,  and  nominally  distinct 
from  him,  they  would  have  him  succeed  our  national  saint  in 
the  fifth  century.  Such  anachronisms  in  uncritical  biogra- 
phies that  were  not  collated  with  each  other  or  the  Boole  of 
A  rmagh  are  matter  for  regret ;  but  it  is  matter  for  wonder 
that  these  anachronisms  escaped  the  notice  of  the  learned 
Bollandists.  For  Papebroke  and  Stilting  {A A.  SS.  for 
March  and  September)  suggest  that  what  was  said  of  St. 
Patrick  in  the  life  of  St.  Ailbe,  may  not  refer  to  the  great  St. 
Patrick,  but  to  Sen  Patrick,  his  successor.  But  how  could 
the^reat  St.  Patrick  be  referred  to,  as  he  lived  four  hundred 
years  after  the  events  commemorated  in  the  life  ?  The 
oversight  of  the  Bollandists  arose  probably  from  not  knowing 
that  Palladius  was  called  Patrick,  and  from  not  adverting 
that  M'Nessa,  the  represented  contemporary  of  Palladius, 
lived  in  the  first  century. 

13.  The  inconsistent  notices  of  Sen  Patrick  in  the  lives 
may  be  traced  principally  to  the  Glastonbury  legends  ;  and 
as  the  monks  claimed  St.  Patrick  as  inmate  and  abbot  after 
his  supposed  departure  from  the  Irish  mission,  so  Scottish 
writers  claimed  him  as  an  apostolic  missionary  in  Scotland. 

'  Ibiil.,  page  405. 


Sen  (old)  Patrick,  who  was  he  ?  807 

The  Glastonbury  claims  were  advanced  in  the  eight  century. 
Irish  chronicles  of  the  tenth  and  eleventh  centuries  adopted 
the  notices  of  Sen  Patrick's  death  in  the  obits  of  Glastonbury, 
while  the  annals  of  Connaught  and  Ulster  in  the  fifteenth 
century,  and  those  of  the  Four  Masters  in  the  seventeenth 
were  coloured  by  the  Scottish  theories.  There  was  neither 
truth  nor  consistency  in  either  Scottish  or  English  legends. 
Some  English  legends  stated  that  Old  Patrick  lived  in 
Glastonbury  for  thirty-nine  years,  having  come  there  in  the 
year  433  ;  while  others  made  him  come  there  in  the  year  449. 
The  Scottish  theories  were  no  less  inconsistent.  Some  main- 
tained with  Spotiswoode,  that  Palladius  evangelized  Scotland 
during  twenty-three  years,  while  others  extended  his  labours 
there  to  thirty  years.  Hence  we  find,  on  the  supposition  that 
Palladius  came  to  Ireland  in  the  year  431,  that  the  Irish 
chronicles  variously  date  the  death  of  Sen  Patrick  to  the  years 
454,  459,  and  461.  The  Scottish  theories,  stimulated  probably 
by  the  earlier  claims  of  Glastonbury,  were  mainly  built  on  the 
statement  of  the  very  unreliable  scholiast — that  Palladius, 
having  left  Ireland,  founded  a. church  in  Fordum. 

The  confusion  in  the  Glastonbury  legends  differs  from  the 
Irish  chronicles  in  this,  that  the  former  attribute  the  acts  of 
the  two  Patricks  to  one  person,  while  the  latter  preposterously 
make  the  first,  or  old  Patrick,  succeed  the  second  Patrick. 
But  even  amid  this  obscurity  gleams  of  truth  flash  out  in  the 
succession  of  bishops  given  in  the  Book  ofLeinster ;  only  tw^o 
years  are  given  to  Sen  Patrick  or  Palladius.  He  came  to 
Ireland  in  431,  and  died  in  432.  In  course  of  time  he  was  so 
much  forgotten  that  the  later  notices  of  him  in  the  Book  of 
Armagh  state  that  the  place  and  nature  of  his  death  were 
unknown.  Towards  the  close  of  the  twelfth  century  it 
appears  to  have  been  nearly  forgotten  that  Palladius  was 
called  Patrick  for  some  centuries  ;  and  in  course  of  time  our 
national  saint  so  filled  the  public  mind  in  connection  with 
the  conversion  of  Ireland,  as  to  shut  out  the  idea  of  any 
missionary  previous  to  him. 

But  it  may  be  objected  that  there  is  mention  in  the  lives 
of  several  Patricks,  a  ''source  of  much  embarrassment"  to 
our  modern  historians  ;  these  are— (a)  Sen  Patrick,  (/>)  Patrick 


808  Sen  (old)  Patrick,  loho  toas  he  ? 

of  Nola,  (c)  Patrick  of  Auvergne,  (d)  the  three  Patricks  men- 
tioned in  the  Tripartite,  and  (e)  Patrick  Junior.  Patrick 
Senior  (a),  mentioned  in  the  hymn  of  Fiacc,  was  Palladius  ; 
Patrick  of  Nola  (h),  commemorated  by  Farracius^  on  the 
Eve  or  first  vespers  of  the  17th  March,  is  no  other  than  our 
national  saint,  who  was  ordained  in  Nola.^  (c)  The  same 
may  be  said  of  Patrick  of  Auvergne,  commemorated  in  the 
Eoman  martyrology  on  the  16th  of  March,  to  the  great  surprise 
of  Baronius,^  as  there  had  been  no  Patrick  among  the  bishops 
of  Clarmont  :  our  national  apostle  had  studied  on  the  borders 
of  Auvergne,  and  was  there  consecrated  by  the  abbot-bishop 
Amatus.  (d)  The  three  other  Patricks  mentioned  in  the 
Tripartite,^  whom  our  saint  met  at  Lerins,  were  probably 
Saints  Honoratus,  Maximus,  and  Hilary  of  Aries,  three 
abbots  there  in  succession. 

(d)  The  three  Patricks  appear  to  be  taken  by  the  Tri- 
partite as  of  consular  rank;  but  such  a  meaning  is  mislead- 
ing.^ If  the  Patricks  {laii  Patricii)  were  Christian  names, 
then  the  writer  was  in  error,  as  our  apostle  was  not  then 
called  Patrick,  unless  by  the  figure  prolepsis  he  anticipated 
the  future  name  of  the  saint.  The  writer  was  also  in  error 
if  he  employed  the  Patricius  as  a  name  of  honour  ;  and  it  is 
most  likely  he  did  so  employ  it ;  for  in  page  123  {Tr.  Thaum.) 
he  states  that  our  national  saint  received  at  consecration 
from  Pope  Celestine  a  name,  Patricius,  which  at  that  time 
was  expressive  of  honour  and  excellence.  The  mention  of  the 
three  Patricks,  then,  was  expressive  of  their  patrician  rank, 
and  not  of  their  Christian  names. 

(e)  It  is  admitted  that  Palladius,  an  arch-deacon  or  deacon 
of  the  Eoman  Church,  was  sent  by  Pope  Celestine  to  Ireland. 
He  was  called  by  the  Irish  the  first  Patrick.  The  Irish 
scholiast,  in  giving  the  relatives  of  our  national  saint  {Tr. 
Thaum.,  p.  4),  states  that  Sannanus,  the  deacon,  was  his 
brother.  He  was  his  spiritual  brother ;  for  Sen,  the  deacon, 
mentioned  by  the  scholiast  was  Sen  Patrick,  or  Palladius, 


'  Catal,  SS.  Italia.  *  Page  122. 

2  Vide  I.  E.  Record,  May,  1887.  ^  Tr.  ThaMm.,  page  123., 

Note  to  Roman  Martyrohgy. 


Sen  (old)  Patrick,  who  was  he  ?  809 

In  turning  from  the  scholiast  of  the  tenth  century  to  the 
sixth  life  by  Joceline  in  the  twelfth  (T?*.  Thaum.,  p.  106), 
we  are  informed,  that  our  national  saint  had  a  dear  son 
Patrick  (spiritually),  who  was  son  of  San,  and  who,  after  the 
death  of  his  uncle,  returned  to  Britain,  died  there,  and  was 
buried  in  Glastonbury.  Now,  on  this  statement,  Ussher 
remarks  {Primordia,  p.  823)  that  Sannanus,  the  deacon,  was 
father  to  Patrick  Junior ;  and  Colgan  winds  up  the  story 
{Appendix  v.,  p.  225)  by  expressing  a  hope  that  he  was  born 
before  San,  his  father,  became  a  deacon.  Here  we  see  the 
Patricks  almost  inextricably  involved,  and  the  spiritual 
inconsistently  confounded  with  carnal  relationship.  For 
Palladius,  who  has  been  properly  described  by  Irish  annalists 
as  a  "  foster  father  or  tutor  "  to  our  national  saint,  is  made 
by-and-bye  to  sink  to  the  level  of  a  carnal  brother,  rises  again 
to  the  higher  spiritual  level,  but  as  a  dependent  or  coadjutor 
to  our  apostle  ;  and,  having  become  a  Patrick  junior,  nephew 
to  the  great  Patrick,  finally  disappears  in  a  grave  at  Glaston- 
bury. And  all  this  has  been  chronicled  and  faithfully  copied 
as  grave  matter  for  history  ! 

On  broad  historical  lines,  by  a  rather  circuitous  road,  we 
have  been  led  to  the  identification  of  Sen  Patrick  ;  but  we 
might,  through  an  easy  and  short  cut,  have  arrived  at  the  con- 
clusion by  a  reference  to  the  May  number  of  the  I.  E.  Eecoed. 
It  has  been  there  proved  clearly  that  only  two  persons  were 
called  Patrick,  down  to  the  eleventh  century  in  the  Irish 
Church.  One  of  these  was  our  national  saint,  the  other  was 
Palladius.  Our  national  saint  was  always  contradistinguished 
from  Sen  Patrick  ;  not  so  with  Palladius  ;  and  therefore, 
Palladius,  as  being  the  elder  workman  in  the  Irish  vine- 
yard, must  have  been  he  who,  not  inaptly,  was  called  Sen 
Patrick. 

^Yl^VESTER   MaLONE, 


[     810    ] 


THE  lEISH  ABBEY  IN  YPEES.— HI. 

ri^HE  history  of  the  Abbey  of  Our  Lady  of  Grace  has  now 
-*-  been  traced  i  from  its  foundation,  in  1665,  to  the  death, 
in  1723,  of  the  second  abbess  of  the  Irish  community  who, 
it  has  been  shown,  might  very  fairly  be  spoken  of  as  the 
real  foundress  of  the  house. 

Abbess  Butler's  successor  was  Dame  Xaveria  Arthur,  one 
of  the  first  who  had  joined  her  after  her  return  from  Ireland. 
Dame  Xaveria  made  her  novitiate  at  Ghent,  and  at  the  end 
of  it  returned  to  Ypres  for  profession ;  but,  as  has  already 
been  related,  this  was  delayed  for  a  considerable  period.  She 
was,  however,  in  time  professed,  in  consequence  of  the 
interest  shown  in  her  by  Mary  of  Modena.  This  was  in 
1700.  Three  years  later  she  was  named  prioress,  and 
remained  so  till  her  election  to  the  abbacy,  in  1723.  She 
ruled  the  house  for  twenty  years,  and  died  in  1743,  on  the 
Feast  of  the  Five  Wounds — a  feast  which  had  been  inserted 
by  the  Holy  See  in  the  conventual  calendar  at  her  own 
request. 

Her  successor  was  Dame  Mary  Magdalen  Mandeville, 
who  was  blessed  in  the  private  chapel  of  the  bishop's  palace. 
When  a  novice  Dame  Mary  Magdalen  had  occasion  to  visit 
Trelaiid,  to  resist  the  efforts  made  by  her  brother  to  deprive 
her  of  her  property ;  and  this  was  tliought  a  good  oppor- 
tunity for  recovering  possession  of  the  church  plate  which 
Abbess  Butler  had  left  in  Ireland.  Sister  Mary  Magdalen 
accordingly  took  charge  of  it,  but  the  ship  in  which  she 
embarked  foundered  off  the  Isle  of  Wight,  and  the  plate  was 
lost,  she  herself  being  only  saved  with  difficulty.  On  her 
arrival  at  Ypres  she  recommenced  her  novitiate,  and  was 
professed  in  1726.  She  died  in  1760,  seventeen  j^ears  after 
her  election  as  abbess. 

The  fifth  Irish  abbess  was  Dame  Mary  Bernard  Dalton, 
who  was  chiefly  remarkable  for  her  devotion  to  the  Sacred 

1  I.  E.  Record,  February  and  May,  ISm.  The  present,  and  concluding, 
article  has  been  nnavoidably  delayed. 


The  Irish  Abbey  in  Ypres,  Rll 

Heart,  in  hononr  of  which,  by  permission  of  Pope  Pius  VI., 
she  erected  in  the  abbey  church  a  confraternity  which  still 
flourishes.     Abbess  Dalton  died  in  1783. 

Dame  Clementine  Mary  Scholastica  Lynch  was  chosen 
as  her  successor,  though  she  was  not  yet  thirty  years  old. 
After  the  proper  dispensation  had  been  granted  she  was 
blessed,  went  to  the  helm,  and  entered  upon  the  duties  of 
her  office,  which  was  to  be  the  fruitful  source  of  anxiety  and 
care.  In  1793  Belgium  was  overrun  by  one  of  the  armies 
of  revolutionary  France.  Ypres  did  not  escape,  and  so  early 
in  the  year  as  January  13th  it  was  in  the  hands  of  the 
French.  They  demanded  admittance  into  the  Irish  abbey, 
and  were  very  naturally  refused  it  by  the  abbess.  They  then 
broke  into  the  house,  and  might  have  been  very  troublesome 
had  they  not  drank  copiously.  As  it  was  they  allowed 
themselves  to  be  prevailed  upon  to  pass  the  night  in  the 
out-parlours,  and  to  permit  the  nuns  to  go  to  choir.  The 
religious  passed  the  night  in  fear  and  dread,  but  they  were 
unmolested,  and  the  morning  brought  help.  One  of  the 
better  disposed  of  the  non-commissioned  officers  suggested 
that  the  abbess  should  apply  to  the  general  commanding  at 
Tournay,  as  he,  being  an  Irishman,  w^ould  certainly  come  to 
her  assistance.  She  was  not  slow^  to  act  upon  this  friendly 
advice,  and  her  appeal  for  help  was  attended  with  complete 
success.  Tlie  governor  of  Ypres  called,  apologized  for  w4mt 
had  been  done,  removed  the  seals  which  had  been  placed  on 
various  doors,  paid  for  all  damage,  and  withdrew  the 
soldiers,  though  he  took  the  opportunity  of  advising  the 
nuns  to  avail  themselves  of  the  liberty  ,to  break  their  vows 
offered  them  by  the  republic. 

The  French  were  compelled  to  withdraw  from  Belgium  in 
1793  ;  but  in  the  following  year  they  returned,  and  finally 
expelled  the  Austrians.^  During  this  second  struggle  the 
abbey  had  a  further  experience  of  revolutionary  courtesies  ; 
for  when  Ypres  was  taken  a  decree  was  published  ordering 
the  expulsion  of  the  religious  orders,  and,  though  the  Irish 

Mn  the  October  of  that  year,  17U4,  Belgium  was  formally  aiinoxod 
to  the  French  l»epublic,  and  the  annexation  was  recognised  by  Austria  ip 
1 71)7  by  the  treaty  of  C'ampo  Formiq.  " 


812  The  Irish  Ahhey  in  Ypres. 

abbey  received  a  respite  on  the  ground  of  its  members  being 
foreigners,  the  nuns  were  incessantly  worried  by  domicihary 
visits.  Matters  drifted  on  for  years,  and  before  they  were 
settled  Abbess  Lynch  died.  Her  death  took  place  on 
June  22nd,  1799 ;  and  shortly  after  the  community 
elected  as  abbess  her  sister,  Dame  Bridget  Mary  Bernard 
L5mch. 

Directly  after  her  election  the  new  abbess  received  notice 
of  the  final  sentence  of  suppression.  The  revolutionary 
government  sold  the  house,  and  ordered  the  nuns  to  leave 
it,  taking  nothing  with  them  beyond  what  each  one  had  in 
her  cell.  The  allotted  time  expired  on  November  13th,  the 
feast  of  All  Benedictine  Saints  ;  but  when  this  day  arrived  a 
violent  storm  prevented  the  nuns  from  leaving  the  abbey. 
Next  day — All  Monks  Day — news  came  of  a  change  of 
government.  The  new  rulers  permitted  the  nuns  to  remain 
in  the  abbey,  and  to  buy  back  their  own  property  from  the 
men  who  had  purchased  it  from  the  revolutionary  robbers. 
After  this  they  were  no  more  disturbed  ;  but  owing  to  their 
inability  to  get  money  from  England  on  account  of  the  war, 
they  were  reduced  to  dire  straits  of  poverty  ;  one  result  of 
which  was  that  for  a  whole  year,  not  having  a  bedstead  in 
the  house,  they  were  obliged  to  sleep  on  the  floor.  But 
regular  discipline  was  not  relaxed,  nor  had  it  been  during 
the  whole  period  of  revolutionary  troubles  ;  and  it  is  one  of 
the  proudest^boasts  of  this  community  that,  during  the  whole 
reign  of  terror  they  performed  the  divine  office  with  an 
exactitude  worthy  of  their  order. 

There  is  not  much  to  add.  The  Irish  abbey,  which  for 
long  was  the  only  convent  in  the  Low  Countries,  went  on 
quietly,  though  in  extreme  poverty.  In  1830,  Abbess 
Bridget  Lynch,  who  had  piloted  her  community  through  so 
many  storms,  died,  and  was  succeeded  by  Dame  Mary 
Benedict  Byrne  ;  and  she  was,  in  1840,  succeeded  by  Dame 
Elizabeth  Jarrett. 

In  the  early  years  of  her  rule  Abbess  Jarrett  had  the 
happiness  to  entertain  as  a  guest  the  present  Holy  Father, 
then  Monsignor  Joachim  Pecci,  Archbishop  of  Damietta, 
fi-^cl  Nuncio  Apostolic  to  the  Court  of  Brussels,  who  blessed 


The  Irish  Abbey  in  Ypres.  813 

a  little  chapel  which  stands  in  the  corner  of  the  garden. 
About  the  same  time  she  experienced  something  of  a  less 
pleasant  character,  for  by  the  failure  of  "Wright's  Bank  the 
conventual  resources  were  yet  further  crippled.  But,  in 
spite  of  this,  by  the  generous  assistance  of  Bishop  Malou, 
of  Bruges,  and  of  Bishop  Morris,  O.S.B.,  the  latter  of  whom 
had  three  sisters  in  the  community,  she  was  enabled  to 
rebuild  the  house,  replacing  the  old  building  by  a  fine 
specimen  of  Flemish  Gothic,  built  of  red  brick  with  lime- 
stone dressings,  and  having  the  square  cloisters,  which  are  so 
essential  a  feature  of  real  monastic  architecture.  The  new 
building,  however,  contains  more  than  one  reminder  of 
what  has  gone  before,  and  not  the  least  interesting  of  these 
mementoes  are  the  refectory  tables  of  Irish  oak  which  were 
brought  from  her  native  land  by  Abbess  Butler.^  Having 
built  her  house.  Abbess  Jarrett  made  an  endeavour  to 
increase  its  revenues  by  applying  to  the  English  Treasury 
for  the  payment  of  the  annuity  which  was  granted  to  the 
Dublin  house  by  James  II.  But  the  distinguished  states- 
man who  was  then  responsible  for  the  finance  of  England 
replied  that  he  could  not  recognise  the  claim,  as  James  had 
already  abdicated  when  he  made  the  grant. 

After  nearly  half  a  century  of  office.  Abbess  Jarrett  died, 
and  the  community  elected  in  her  place  their  prioress,  Dame 
Scholastica  Berge.  The  tenth  abbess^  of  the  Irish  convent 
was  blessed  last  year,  on  July  11th,  the  Solemn  Commemo- 
ration of  Saint  Benedict,  by  the  diocesan,  Monsignor  Faict, 

1  These  tables  are  far  from  being  the  only  objects  of  antiquarian 
interest  belonging  to  the  abbey.  The  lace  worked  by  Mary  Queen  of 
Scots,  and  the  colours  taken  at  Ramillies,  have  already  been  mentioned ; 
and,  in  addition  to  these  things,  some  curtains  and  vestments  made  from 
some  sixteenth-century  brocade,  given  by  one  of  the  archduchesses,  who  is 
said  to  have  worn  it  at  a  court  ball,  are  worthy  of  notice. 

'■*  It  will,  perhaps,  be  convenient  to  collect  here  the  names  of  the 
abesses.  They  run  as  follows : — [Dame  Mary  Beaumont  of  the  English 
community,  and  then  of  the  Irish].  1.  Dame  Flavia  Gary,  1682 ; 
2.  Dame  Mary  Joseph  Butler,  1686;  :>.  Dame  Margaret  Xaveiia  Arthur, 
1723 ;  4.  Dame  Mary  Magdalen  Mandeville,  1740 ;  5.  Dame  Mary 
Bernard  Dalton,  1760 ;  6.  Dame  Mary  Scholastica  Lynch,  1783  ;  7.  Dame 
Mary  Bernard  Lynch,  1799;  8.  Dame  Mary  Benedict  Byrne,  1830; 
9.  Dame  Elizabeth  Jarrett,  1840  ;  10.  Dame  Scholastica  Berge,  1890 ; 
ad  multos  annos ! 


814  ■  The  Irish  Ahhcy  in  Yprc^. 

bishoj)  of  Bruges,^  who  made  use  of  the  mitre  and  vest- 
ments which  had  been  worked  for  him  by  the  nmis  of  the 
Irish  abbey,  and  also  wore  the  paUimn  which  had  been  sent 
him  a  year  before  as  a  special  and  remarkable  proof  of  the 
Holy  Father's  affection  and  esteem.  The  venerable  bishop 
was  attended  by  a  large  number  of  the  clergy,  secular  and 
regular,  and  by  many  friends  of  the  house ;  and  the  Holy 
Father  himself,  remembering  the  visit  he  had  paid  the 
abbey  at  the  time  of  his  nunciature,  took  part  in  the 
proceedings  by  sending  a  telegram  conveying  his  apostolic 
blessing. 

The  abbey  is  flourishing  under  the  rule  of  its  present 
abbess,  and  there  has  been  quite  a  run  of  postulants.  It  is 
impossible  to  doubt  that,  if  its  existence  and  history  were 
more  widely  known  in  the  Island  of  Saints,  Irish  subjects 
would  not  be  wanting  for  the  only  Irish  Benedictine 
convent ;  a  convent  in  which  the  memories  of  not  a  few 
Irish  saints  are  venerated  year  by  year.' 

E.  W.  Beck,  F.S.A.  Scot. 


^  The  See  of  Ypres  was  not  restored  after  the  Revolution. 

2  The  feast  of  St.  Patrick  is  kept  as  a  double  of  the  first  class  with 
an  octave ;  that  of  St.  Bridget,  as  a  double  of  the  second  class  ;  those  of 
SS.  Fursey,  Frigidian,  Coluniban,  Kilian,  Fiacre,  and  Colnian,  as  greater 
doubles  ;  and  those  of  SS.  Congall,  Malachy,  AVinoc,  and  Dynipna,  as 
doubles.  The  last  named,  St.  iJynipiia,  is  much  honoured  in  IJelgium, 
especially  at  (iheel,  the  head-quarters  of  the  great  lunatic  colony,  the 
church  of  which  is  not  only  dedicated  in  her  honour,  but  contains  her 
relics  in  a  shrine,  painted  possibly  by  a  conten)porary  of  ]Memling.  Jn 
connection  with  tliese  Irish  feasts  two  otiieis  may  be  mentioned — those  of 
St.  ^Lilburga  and  St.  Joseph  of  Arithmatluea,  which  were  apparently 
taken  from  the  old  English  Benedictine  calendar. 


[     «15     ] 


THOUGHTS  ON  THE  WISDOM  OF  GOD. 

"  God  is  a  discerner  of  the  thoughts  and  intents  of  the  heart, 
neither  is  there  any  creature  invisible  in  His  sight ;  but  all  things 
are  naked  and  open  to  His  eyes."     (Hebrews  iv.  12,  13.) 

IF  the  immensity  of  the  sideral  universe  and  the  prodigious 
scale  of  the  visible  creation  reveals  to  us  something:  of 
the  infinite  power  of  God,  so,  in  like  manner  the  perfect  order 
observable  throughout  space  and  the  beautiful  harmony  every- 
where prevailing,  and  everywhere  even  conspicuous,  speaks 
to  us  no  less  eloquently  of  His  inscrutable  wisdom.  Every 
creature,  from  the  greatest  down  to  the  least,  bears  testimony 
to  the  presence  of  an  all-wise  as  well  as  of  an  all-powerful 
ruler.  ^AHiether,  with  the  astronomer,  we  contemplate  the 
intricate  motions  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  through  the  limit- 
less realms  of  space,  or  whether,  with  the  physician,  we 
consider  the  motions  of  the  tiny  corpuscles  in  the  blood,  as 
they  are  carried  along  through  every  part  of  our  wonderful 
body,  to  build  up  muscle,  and  bone,  and  tissue,  we  shall  be 
equally  struck  by  the  most  marked  signs  of  a  divine  intelli- 
gence. 

Consider  for  a  moment  the  heavens  above.  Through  its 
ample  expanse  unnumbered  w^orlds  are  perpetually  revolving. 
Herschel  himself  counted  over  twenty  millions  in  the  Milky 
Way  alone.  These  worlds  are  not  only  innumerable,  but  they 
are  thousands  of  times,  and  in  the  case  of  many,  hundreds 
of  thousand,  and  even  millions  of  times,  vaster  than  our 
entire  earth.  Yet  they  are  perpetually  rushing  through 
space  at  a  terrific  rapidity.  Each  has  its  appointed  path 
through  the  heavens;  each  dashes  by  at  a  lightning-like 
speed  along  the  orbit  marked  out  for  it.  While  generations 
of  men  come  and  go,  while  nations  rise  and  fall,  these 
colossal  worlds  are  ever  hastening  on  their  way,  some  at  the 
rate  of  one  thousand  miles  a  minute,  some  at  the  rate  of  ten 
thousand  miles,  and  even  much  more.  Yet,  observe,  they 
never  collide,  never  break  away  from  their  prescribed  limits, 
never  swerve  to  right  or  left,  but  follow  their  proper  orbit 


816  Thoughts  on  the  Wisdom  of  God, 

with  such  regularity  and  such  precision  and  accuracy,  that 
astronomers  are  able  to  predict  to  a  nicety,  to  within  a  line, 
or  even  a  fraction  of  a  line,  the  spot  in  the  heavens  where 
they  will  be  found  fifty  or  a  hundred  years  to  come. 

What  an  exhibition  of  divine  wisdom  is  here !  Truly 
does  the  Psahnist  remind  us  that  "  The  heavens  show  forth 
the  glory  of  God,  and  the  firmament  declareth  the  works  of 
His  hands."  (Ps.  xviii.)  But  if  we  descend  to  earth,  and 
contemplate  the  smallest  object  reposing  upon  its  surface, 
the  same  truth  is  equally  evident.  The  smallest  wild-flower 
that  grows  in  the  hedgerows  is  equally  loud  and  clear  in  its 
testimony  to  ears  that  are  open  to  hear.  Even  the  wild 
rose  or  the  timorous  violet  comes  before  us  as  a  perfect 
work  of  art,  the  produce  of  wisdom  as  well  as  of  power. 
Nothing  but  infinite  wisdom  could  impress  upon  a  dull 
particle  of  unconscious  matter — such  as  is  the  seed  of  a 
flower — those  marvellous  principles  of  force  and  hidden 
virtue,  which  enable  it  to  build  up  and  construct  such 
beauteous  forms  from  the  elements  of  earth,  air,  and  water; 
and  to  paint  them  with  such  fairy  hues,  to  guild  their  petals 
with  the  gleam  of  burnished  gold,  and  to  fill  their  chahce 
cups  with  a  sweetness  and  a  fragrance  that  scents  every 
passing  breeze.  Indeed,  there  is  nothing  throughout  nature 
that  does  not  whisper  to  us  of  God's  intelligence  and 
wisdom.  As  every  shell  murmurs  of  the  great  sea  from 
which  it  came,  so  every  creature  murmurs  of  the  Creator 
who  fashioned  and  formed  it. 

In  our  own  soul,  however,  we  possess  a  more  irresistible 
proof  of  God's  wisdom.  Our  soul  is  intelligent,  and  possesses 
reason  and  the  gift  of  judgment.  Now,  as  no  one  can  give 
what  he  does  not  possess,  God  could  not  create  intelligence 
imless  He  first  possessed  it  in  an  infinite  degree.  The  royal 
prophet,  arguing  against  those  who  would  deny  the  person- 
ality of  God,  asks  very  pertinently  : — ''  He  that  planted  the 
ear,  shall  He  not  hear  ?  And  He  that  formed  the  eye,  shall 
He  not  consider?"  (Ps.  xciii.  9.)  So,  in  a  similar  temper, 
may  we  inquire  : — He  that  has  bestowed  intelligence,  shall 
He  not  understand  ?  and  He  that  has  created  reason,  shall 
He  not  comprehend  ?  Evidently,  if  reason  and  intelligence 


Thoughts  on  the  Wisdom  of  God.  817 

exist  anywhere  in  creation  that  very  fact  proves  incontestably 
that  it  exists  in  the  mind  of  the  infinite  Creator. 

The  Holy  Scriptures  again  and  again  proclaim  the 
omniscience  of  God.  In  Ecclus.  (xxiii.  28)  we  read  :  ''  The 
eyes  of  the  Lord  are  far  brighter  than  the  sun ;  beholding 
round  about  all  the  ways  of  men,  and  the  bottom  of  the  deep, 
and  looking  into  the  hearts  of  men,  into  the  most  hidden 
parts."  So  again,  similar  passages  are  to  be  met  with  in  the 
Psalms  ;  e.g.,  cxxxviii :  **  Thou  hast  known  my  sitting  down, 
and  my  rising  up  ;  Thou  hast  understood  my  thoughts  afar 
off:  my  path  and  my  line  Thou  hast  searched  out,  and  Thou 
hast  foreseen  all  my  ways."  So  in  Ecclus.  (xxxix.  24)  :  **  The 
works  of  all  flesh  are  before  Him,  and  there  is  nothing  hidden 
from  His  eyes.  He  seeth  from  eternity  to  eternity,  and  there 
is  nothing  wonderful  before  Him."  Such  quotations  might 
be  multiphed  ahnost  without  limit. 

Let  us  now  enter  a  little  more  into  particulars.  Reason 
and  faith  teach  us  that  the  wisdom  of  God  is  infinite.  If 
infinite  it  must  have  an  infinite  object.  Such  an  object 
cannot,  of  course,  be  found  among  creatures  which  are 
essentially  and  necessarily  limited.  The  only  adequate 
object  of  God's  knowledge  and  contemplation  is  God  Him- 
self He  knows  Himself  fully  and  exhaustively,  and  in  a 
manner  in  which  no  creature  knows  or  can  know  Him. 
Now  observe :  as  every  other  being  has  sprung  from  Him, 
and  is  the  fruit  and  result  of  His  industry,  it  follows  that  in 
knowing  Himself  He  knows  all  else  besides.  Let  me 
attempt  an  illustration.  Thus,  if  I  could  know  an  acorn 
perfectly :  if  I  could  measure  all  its  vital  forces,  and  gauge 
all  its  hidden  sources  of  energy  and  growth,  I  should  then 
be  able  to  understand  an  oak-tree  without  ever  having  seen 
one.  So,  only  in  a  transcendental  manner,  God  by  under- 
standing Himself  understands  and  knows  all  things  else,  all 
being  but  the  effect  of  His  power  :  for  "  all  things,"  as 
St.  John  says,  ''  were  made  by  Him,  and  without  Him  was 
made  nothing  that  was  made." 

Perhaps  we  may  reahze  this  better  by  aid  of  a  com- 
parison. Take  the  example  of  a  renowned  painter.  We 
steal  softly  into  the  studio  of  some  famous  artist  :  it  is  a 
VOL.  XII.  3  F 


B18  Tho2ights  on  the  Wisdom  of  God. 

Raphael  or  a  Rubens,  or  a  Dominichino.  We  find  Lim 
seated  there,  lost  in  reverie,  his  head  leaning  meditatively 
on  his  hand.  He  is  awaiting  the  inspiration  before  he  can 
commence  his  work.  Aromid  him  lie  his  pigments,  his 
brushes,  his  pallet  and  oils,  and  washes,  and  the  untouched 
canvas.  What  is  his  purpose  ?  He  is  about  to  paint  an 
ideal  figure  or  scene.  That  is  to  say,  he  is  going  to  take 
the  image  existing  in  his  own  mind  ;  and  to  transfer  it  to 
the  canvas.  The  scene  or  figure  must,  therefore,  be  in  his 
own  mind,  and  lie  clearly  before  him  before  he  can  give  it 
an  external  and  independent  existence.  It  must  exist  in 
his  own  mind,  before  it  is  possible  for  it  to  exist  in  real 
colour  and  form.  He  must,  in  a  word,  grasp  the  image 
with  his  imagination  ere  he  can  give  it  any  outward 
expression  or  external  reality;  i.e.,  it  must  be  known  to  the 
artist  before  the  artist  can,  by  aid  of  colour  and  form,  make 
it  known  to  others. 

So  is  it,  only  in  an  infinitely  higher  degree,  of  the  divine 
Artist,  the  Artist  who  has  painted  the  heavens  and  beautified 
the  earth.  He  must  have  known  all  things,  even  before  He 
made  them ;  for  He  could  not  create  till  He  knew,  and  had 
already  determined  what  it  was  He  was  about  to  create.  It 
is  absolutely  necessary  that  the  idea,  the  pattern,  or  proto- 
type should  exist  within  the  mind  of  God  before  He  could 
decree  that  it  should  have  a  real  objective  existence. 

And  here  we  may  point  out  the  fundamental  distinction 
between  the  wisdom  of  man,  such  as  it  is,  and  the  wisdom 
of  God.  With  us,  a  thing  must  exist  in  order  that  we  may 
know  it ;  with  God  it  is  precisely  the  opposite.  The  thing 
must  be  known  in  order  that  it  may  exist.  If  it  did  not 
first  exist,  we  could  never  know  it ;  but  if  God  did  not  first 
know  it,  it  would  never  exist.  In  other  words,  our  know- 
ledge supposes  the  object  already  existing;  on  the  other 
hand,  the  existence  of  any  object  supposes  a  preceding 
knowledge  of  it  already  in  the  mind  of  God.  If  any  creature 
exists,  then  God  must  have  known  it  before  it  existed,  since 
otherwise  it  never  could  exist  at  all. 

From  this  it  follows  that  God's  knowledge  must  be 
co-extensive   with  creation,  i.  e.,   it  must  extend    to  every 


Thoughts  on  the  Wisdom  of  God.  819 

existing  creature,  the  greatest  and  the  smallest  alike ;  and 
even  to  every  merely  possible  creature  likewise ;  for  unless 
known,  they  could  not  be  properly  described  as  even 
''possible." 

Although  2ce  are  unable  to  occupy  our  minds  with  many 
things  at  the  same  time,  though  a  vast  multitude  of  distinct 
objects  breeds  confusion  with  us,  yet  we  must  bear  in  mind, 
that  this  fact  is  owing  simply  to  our  finite  nature  This 
confusion  is  not  a  necessary  condition  of  the  created  mind 
inasmuch  as  it  is  mind :  but  it  is  a  necessary  condition  of 
the  created  mind  inasmuch  as  it  is  finite  and  circumscribed. 
It  is  a  mere  imperfection  and  limitation  which  in  no  way 
holds  in  respect  to  an  infinite  being. 

God  knows  all  truths  without  obscurity  or  confusion, 
and  each  individually  as  though  no  others  existed — each  as 
all,  and  all  as  each.  What  an  overwhelming  thought  is  this  ! 
Call  to  mind  the  myriads  of  creatures  that  swarm  in  the 
forests  and  fields,  the  seas  and  rivers,  the  earth  and  the  air. 
Yet  not  a  motion,  not  a  sensation,  not  a  breath  or  a  throb, 
not  the  beat  of  a  heart,  not  the  glance  of  an  eye,  nor  the 
tremor  of  a  wing  escapes  Him.  From  the  highest  seraph  in 
heaven  down  to  the  invisible  amoeba,  whose  world  is  a  water 
drop,  everything  is  "  naked  and  open  to  His  eyes."  I  stoop 
and  dip  my  finger  in  a  stagnant  pool,  and  withdraw  it  with 
one  small  drop  adhering  to  the  tip.  It  is  but  a  tiny  drop. 
I  place  it  beneath  a  powerful  microscope.  And  behold  !  the 
drop  is,  as  it  were,  transformed.  It  has  grown  into  a 
veritable  ocean — a  world  ! — a  universe  !  What  seemed  so 
clear,  and  still  and  void,  is  found  to  be  teeming  with  life. 
Thousands,  nay,  hundreds  of  thousands,  of  strange  and 
uncanny  forms  are  plunging  and  swimming,  and  hurrying 
to  and  fro,  and  backwards  and  forwards,  and  up  and  down, 
in  this  little  water  world.  There  are  pursuers  and  pursued, 
devourers  and  devoured ;  there  are  great  and  small,  the 
strong  and  the  weak  ;  there  are  births  and  deaths,  and  thrills 
of  joy,  and  throbs  of  pain,  in  that  strange  water  world.  Yet 
there  is  no  birth  and  no  death,  no  thrill  of  joy  nor  throb  of 
pain  even  there — in  that  little  universe  glistening  like  a 
diamond  at  the  end  of  my  finger — but  God  knows  it,  and 


820  Thoughts  on  the  Wisdom  of  God. 

permits  it,  and  ordains  it.  For  His  providence  watches  over 
all,  and  without  His  foreknowledge  nothing  either  stirs, 
breathes,  or  even  exists,  or  can  exist. 

"  Oh  !  the  depth  of  the  riches  of  the  wisdom  and  of  the 
knowledge  of  God.  How  incomprehensible  are  His  judg- 
ments, and  how  unsearchable  His  ways!"  (Rom.  xi.  33.) 
Yes !  unfathomable,  indeed,  and  unsearchable  to  the  minds 
of  men.  That  all,  down  to  the  invisible  infusoria,  should  be 
clearly  known  to  Him,  and  known  individually,  may  seem 
strange.  Yet  it  is  an  incontestable  truth.  We  may  easily 
convince  ourselves  of  it  by  pointing  out  the  absurdity  of  the 
opposite  hypothesis. 

Let  us,  then,  suppose,  for  the  sake  of  argument,  that 
among  the  countless  myriads  of  creatures  one  single  indivi- 
dual exists  of  which  God  knows  nothing.  Observe  the 
absurd  consequences  that  would  follow : — 

1st.  It  would  follow  that  God  is  not  everywhere.  For  if 
He  was  everywhere  He  would  be  where  that  creature  is,  and 
would,  of  course,  know  it.  To  say,  therefore,  that  there  is 
any  creature  imknown  to  God,  would  be  to  deny  His 
immensity  and  ubiquity. 

2nd.  It  would  follow  that  the  dominion  of  God  is  not 
infinite.  For  if  the  creature  we  are  referring  to  were 
dependent  upon  God,  and  supported  each  succeeding  moment 
by  the  power  of  God,  it  must  be  known  to  Him.  If  it  be  not 
known,  then  it  must  be  independent  of  God,  self-existing, 
and  its  own  master,  which  is  absurd. 

3rd.  Indeed,  to  say  that  any  being,  however  contemptible, 
is  unknown  to  God,  is  the  same  thing  as  to  deny  His  omnis- 
cience. His  knowledge  would  not  be  infinite,  because  it 
might  be  added  to  :  we  could  add  the  fact  of  this  creature's 
existence. 

What  we  have  laid  down  in  regard  to  every  creature 
holds  equally  good  of  every  portion  and  element  of  which 
even  the  least  creature  is  made  up. 

But  the  thought  of  the  wisdom  of  God,  though  well 
calculated  to  fill  our  minds  with  reverence  and  awe,  becomes 
especially  pertinent  and  practical  when  referred  to  ourselves 
in  person.    Indeed  it  is  a  great  aid  to  sanctity  and  perfection 


Thoughts  on  the  Wisdom  of  God.  821 

to  try  and  realize  God's  intimate  consciousness  of  all  that  goes 
on,  even  in  our  most  secret  heart  of  hearts.  To  feel  God 
knows  me  intimately,  clearly,  fully,  exhaustively.  Heart 
and  mind  are  naked  and  open  before  Him.  I  may  forget 
Him ;  He  cannot  forget  me.  I  may  lose  consciousness  of 
Him  in  sleep;  He  cannot  lose  consciousness  of  me.  My 
thoughts  fly  by  so  rapidly  that  they  almost  escape  me ;  they 
cannot  escape  Him.  God's  all-penetrating  eye  follows  me 
wheresoever  I  may  be.  Nothing  could  give  God  a  clearer  or 
a  more  thorough  knowledge  of  me  than  He  has  already. 
Let  me  make  an  impossible  supposition.  Suppose  God  were 
to  withdraw  His  attention  from  every  other  being  so  as  to 
focus  and  concentrate  it  all  on  me  alone.  What,  then? 
Well,  He  would  even  then  know  me  no  better  than  He  does 
at  present. 

He  knows  me  at  this  moment  with  absolute  perfection 
and  accuracy — my  thoughts,  my  desires,  my  secret  aspira- 
tions. Indeed,  as  compared  with  God,  I  am  grossly  ignorant 
of  myself.  I  see,  but  cannot  explain  sight.  I  am  ignorant 
of  how  I  see.  I  feel,  but  sensation  remains  an  insoluble 
mystery  to  me ;  and  so  of  the  other  senses.  Yet  He  knows  who 
has  designed  and  constructed  all.  But  more :  he  knows  me  so 
intimately,  that  even  my  future  is  before  Him  as  distinctly  as 
my  present.  As  He  told  St.  Peter  of  his  threefold  sin  of 
denial  before  he  committed  it — nay,  when  he  declared  and 
swore  that  he  would  rather  suffer  death  than  commit  it — so 
could  He  tell  every  act  and  event  of  my  future  life — what  I 
shall  be  thinking  of,  and  doing,  and  desiring  to  do,  each 
succeeding  moment  of  my  life ;  not  in  this  world  alone,  but 
in  the  next  world  also,  a  thousand,  a  million,  a  billion 
centuries  hence ;  yea,  for  all  eternity.  Not  only  will  He 
know  them  as  they  occur,  but  He  knows  them  now.  He 
knew  them  an  eternity  before  I  was  created  ! 

This  is  not  all.  He  is  fully  informed  not  only  of  what 
I  shall  do  and  think  during  the  endless  future  that  awaits 
me  beyond  the  grave,  but  He  is  equally  fully  informed  as  to 
what  I  would  do  under  every  imaginable  circumstance  and 
under  every  possible  hypothesis. 

There  are,  of  course,  an  infinite  number  of  circumstances 


822  Thoughts  on  the  Wisdom  of  God. 

in  which  I  shall  never  really  be  placed,  and  millions  upon 
millions  of  trials  and  temptations  to  which  I  shall  never  be 
subject ;  yet  God  knows  exactly  and  accurately  what  I  would 
do,  and  how  I  would  conduct  myself,  were  I  so  circum- 
stanced, and  were  I  so  tried  and  tempted.  And  what,  by 
way  of  example,  I  have  said  of  myself,  is  true  of  each  of 
the  unnumbered  host  of  angels  and  the  countless  genera- 
tions of  men,  whether  already  created  or  yet  to  be  created. 

Nor  does  His  knowledge  end  here.  With  equal  per- 
spicacity and  exactness  God  knows  not  only  every  creature 
that  now  exists,  or  that  one  day  will  exist,  but  likewise  the 
vastly  larger  number  of  merely  possible  creatures  ;  i.e., 
creatures  which  He  might,  but  never  will,  create. 

But  we  might  go  on  for  ever  developing  and  extending 
the  range  of  the  infinite  wisdom  of  God,  in  its  incompre- 
hensible grandeur  and  perfection.  Let  us  rather  employ 
the  little  space  that  remains  in  stri\ing  to  draw  some 
practical  lessons. 

The  first  effect  of  the  consideration  of  God's  wisdom  is 
to  enhance  our  reverence  and  esteem  of  Him,  and  to  fill 
our  minds  with  a  deeper  sense  of  His  immensity.  His 
majesty,  and  unapproachable  excellence,  and  his  infinite 
supremacy  over  all  the  works  of  His  hands. 

The  second  effect  should  be  to  produce  in  us  a  sense  of 
the  most  profound  humility,  and  perfect  unquestioning 
submission  to  His  authority,  and  a  ready  vivid  faith  in 
whatsoever  He  reveals  :  for  what  is  the  wisdom  and  know- 
ledge of  all  men  and  angels  combined  compared  to  the 
wisdom  and  knowledge  of  God  ?  As  a  grain  of  sand  to  a 
mountain ;  as  a  drop  to  the  ocean ;  as  the  glow-worm's 
feeble  spark  to  the  mid-day  splendour  of  the  tropical  sun. 

A  third  effect  is  to  fill  the  soul  with  a  certain  interior  joy 
and  gladness,  peace,  and  tranquillity.  These  effects  will 
arise  from  the  thought  of  God's  nearness.  In  the  hour  of 
trial,  in  the  day  of  gloom  and  mourning,  I  will  remember 
(and  be  comforted  by  the  remembrance)  that  God  knows 
my  trials,  my  sorrows,  and  has  weighed  all  my  temptations 
and  difficulties  ;  that  he  is  a  witness  both  of  my  trials  and 
sufferings,  and  of  my  patience  and  resignation  under  them. 


The  Catholic  Church,  the  Patroness  oj  Art.         823 

I  shall  take  comfort  from  the  thought  that  I  may  address 
myself  to  Him  at  any  time,  and  He  will  hear  me  ;  that  I  may 
speak  with  Him  familiarly  and  frankly  by  day  or  night  "  as 
a  friend  speaketh  to  a  friend,"  without  fear  of  being  repulsed 
or  misunderstood  or  chided. 

The  great  misfortune,  nowadays,  is,  that  for  so  many  men 
God  has  ceased  to  be  a  reality.  Even  those  who  believe  in 
God's  existence,  do  so  only  in  an  abstract  and  unreal  manner. 
God  does  not  enter  into  their  very  life  ;  the  thought  of  Him 
is  very  seldom  before  them  :  they  wholly  fail  to  realize  the 
awful  presence  of  Omnipotence  and  Omniscience.  Oh  !  what 
a  terrible  awakening  there  will  be  some  day. 

Many  marvellous  surprises,  no  doubt,  await  us  at  the 
hour  of  our  death  ;  but  when  we  open  our  eyes  for  the  first 
time  in  another  world,  will  there  be  any  surprise  equal  to 
that  which  we  shall  experience  when  we  first  learn  how 
close  and  intimate  God  has  been  to  us  all  our  lives  long  ? 
Let  us  resolve  to  think  more  frequently  of  the  all-seeing  and 
all-penetrating  eye  of  God,  and  the  absolute  perfection  with 
which  He  reads  our  most  secret  thoughts,  and  we  shall  soon 
grow  in  holiness  and  sanctity.  It  is  the  method  prescribed 
by  God  Himself:  '*  Walk  before  Me,  and  be  perfect." 

J.  8.  Vaughan. 


THE    CATHOLIC   CHUKCH,  THE   PATKONESS  OF 

AKT. 

IT  is  an  oft-repeated  boast  of  Protestant  writers  that  the 
so-called  Keformers  of  the  sixteenth  century  were  the 
champions  of  individual  liberty  not  alone  in  religious  belief, 
but  even  in  the  investigations  of  science  and  the  develop- 
ment of  art.  They  designate  by  the  opprobrious  name  of 
the  '*  dark  ages "  the  centuries  that  elapsed  between 
Charlemagne  and  Louis  XII.,  because,  say  they,  during 
that  gloomy  period  the  Catholic  Church  held  the  sciences  in 
bondage,  and  kept  men's  minds  in  a  state  of  ignorance  for 


824  The  Catholic  Church,  the  Patroness  of  Art. 

her  own  sordid  and  selfish  ends.  But  no  sooner,  they  tell 
us,  did  men  regain  their  birthright  of  individual  liberty  in 
thought  and  action  than  a  remarkable  change  became  at 
once  perceptible  in  every  department  of  know^ledge.  While 
the  revolt  of  Luther  against  the  authority  of  Eome  restored 
freedom  in  the  domain  of  religious  speculation,  the  inductive 
philosophy  of  Bacon  supplied  a  means  of  investigation 
hitherto  unknown  in  the  realms  of  science  and  art ; 
and  they  point  out  the  fruits  of  the  new  evangel,  among 
other  things,  in  the  steamship  and  the  telegraph,  and 
the  wonderful  scientific  discoveries  which  enable  us  to 
calculate  the  weight  and  distances  of  the  planets,  and  to 
tell  the  constituent  elements  of  the  most  remote  of  the  fixed 
stars . 

It  would  be  interesting  to  investigate  the  grounds  of  such 
lofty  pretensions  in  reference  to  the  arts  and  sciences  in 
detail ;  but  as  such  an  undertaking  would  be  altogether  out 
of  proportion  with  the  limits  of  a  popular  essay,  we  shall 
confine  ourselves  in  the  present  paper  to  showing  that  as 
regards  the  Fme  Arts,  at  least,  Protestantism  can  make  no 
such  boast,  but  that  they  are  mainly  indebted  for  their  ad- 
vancement, if  not  for  their  origin,  to  the  patronage  bestowed 
on  them  by  the  Catholic  Church.  We  purpose  to  show  that 
it  was  within  the  Catholic  Church  that  these  Arts  in  their 
highest  forms  arose ;  that  it  was  in  the  service  of  the  Church 
they  continued  for  many  centuries  to  be  employed  ;  and  that 
without  the  guiding,  and,  it  may  be,  the  restraining 
influence  of  the  Church,  the  Fine  Arts,  as  at  present  known, 
could  not  exist  among  men.  Incidentally,  as  being  intimately 
connected  with  the  main  subject,  some  of  the  principles  of  art 
criticism  will  be  referred  to,  and  the  leading  differences 
between  the  more  prominent  schools  of  art  pointed  out,  as 
circumstances  may  seem  to  require. 

Art,  in  its  widest  sense,  means  the  power  of  doing  some- 
thing not  taught  by  nature.  But  as  this  something  may  be 
very  varied  in  its  character  and  purpose,  so  must  we  distinguish 
several  kinds  of  Art.  The  ancients  divided  the  Arts  into 
liberal  and  servile;  the  former  embracing  the  seven  branches 
of  knowledge  taught  in  their  schools^  and  the  latter  imply- 


The  Catholic  Church,  the  Patroness  of  Art.         825 

ing  the  labours  practised  by  their  slaves.  This  division  does 
not  quite  correspond  with  ours.  We  regard  all  Arts  as 
classified  under  two  great  heads— the mcZi^s^riaZ  andthey^Tie; 
the  object  of  the  former  being  to  minister  to  the  common 
necessities  of  life  ;  while  that  of  the  latter  is,  primarily 
at  least,  to  give  pleasure.  It  is  in  this  sense,  as 
having  pleasure  for  their  primary  object,  that  we  shall 
speak  of  the  ''  Arts "  throughout  the  remainder  of  our 
paper. 

It  is  not  all  pleasure,  however,  that  is  the  legitimate  end 
of  Art.  There  are  certain  pleasures  provided  at  the  dinner- 
table,  for  example,  that  no  one  would  call  artistic ;  nor  do 
we  regard  the  pleasurable  satisfaction  arising  from  the 
possession  of  wealth,  or  dignity,  or  power,  as  coming  within 
the  domain  of  aesthetics.  The  two  great  avenues  of  artistic 
pleasure  are  the  eye  and  the  ear,  its  sources  being  the 
sublime  and  beautiful  in  the  external  world.  By  means  of 
the  imagination,  impressions  made  on  the  retina  or  tym- 
panum are  idealized,  and  thus  it  is  that  pleasure,  originating 
in  form,  or  colour,  or  sweet  sounds,  or  plot-interest,  may 
become  artistic  in  the  highest  degree.  The  difference 
between  aesthetic  and  non-aesthetic  pleasure  may  be  best 
illustrated  by  an  example,  which,  though  somewhat  hack- 
neyed from  the  variety  of  uses  it  is  made  to  serve  both  in 
sacred  and  profane  literature,  yet  admirably  suits  our 
purpose.  We  refer  to  the  temptation  of  Eve.  When  our 
first  mother,  whose  mind,  then  fair  and  innocent,  was 
susceptible  beyond  expression  of  all  the  forms  of  beauty, 
looked  upon  the  tree  of  knowledge,  with  its  varied  luxuri- 
ance of  fruit  and  foliage,  its  harmonious  blending  of  colours, 
its  graceful  symmetry  of  form,  her  eye  drank  in  the  sur- 
passing beauty  of  the  scene,  which  being  distilled  through 
the  alembic  of  the  imagination  became  transformed  into  an 
ocean  of  aesthetic  pleasure  in  which  her  soul  bathed  with 
delight.     It  was  only  when — 

"  Her  rash  hand  in  evil  hour 
"  Forth  reaching  to  the  fruit,  she  plucked  and  ate," 

that  the  sensual  or  non^aesthetic  appetite  was  appeased,  and 


826         The  Catliolic  Church,  the  Patroness  of  Art. 

nature  groaned  to  see  her  own  beauty  becoming  the  occasion 
of  man's  spiritual  ruin  : 

"  Earth  felt  the  wound,  and  Nature  from  her  seat 
Sighing  through  all  her  works,  gave  signs  of  woe 
That  all  was  lost." 

But  if  aesthetic  pleasure  has  thus  become  the  occasion 
of  our  fall,  it  may  also  be  employed  as  an  instrument  of  our 
resurrection.  The  winds  of  heaven  that  bear  death  upon 
their  autumnal  wings,  and  strip  the  giants  of  the  forest  of 
all  their  golden  leafage,  come  to  us  in  the  early  spring  laden 
with  freshness  and  beauty,  to  clothe  the  vegetable  world 
with  the  robes  of  a  new  life.  The  sun,  that  from  the 
height  of  its  solstitial  throne  scorches  earth's  fair  covering 
even  to  its  roots,  smiles  upon  it  at  other  times  and  vivifies 
it  into  verdant  luxuriance  with  the  temperate  warmth  of  his 
beams.  And  so  it  is  with  Art.  The  aesthetic  pleasure 
that,  under  unfavourable  circumstances,  becomes  the  har- 
binger of  spiritual  death,  may,  in  different  contingencies, 
be  made  a  potent  factor  in  elevating  the  soul  to  the  highest 
realms  of  a  supernatural  existence.  This  the  Church  has 
recognised ;  and  hence  she  avails  herself  of  the  Fine  Arts, 
which  have  this  pleasure  for  their  object,  as  important  auxili- 
aries in  working  out  the  salvation  of  men's  souls.  Ilcr  divine 
commission  is  to  teach  as  well  as  to  i^reach.  The  same 
voice  that  said  :  *'  Preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature,"  also 
gave  the  command  :  "  Going,  therefore,  teach  ye  all  nations." 
Flence  every  means  should  be  employed — appeals  to  the 
feelings  no  less  than  to  the  understanding ;  addresses  to  our 
more  tender  and  delicate  susceptibilities  no  less  than  to  our 
stronger  and  nobler  instincts — in  order  to  impart  a  know- 
ledge of  the  truth,  and  to  elevate  human  character  to  a 
higher  spiritual  level. 

Now,  refinement  of  feeling,  a  love  of  the  beautiful,  a 
hatred  of  all  that  is  mean  and  gross  and  unlovely,  are 
generally  found  allied  with  virtue.  Moreover,  to  souls 
endowed  with  a  tender  susceptibility  of  the  beautiful, 
appeals  may  be  made  through  the  feelings  as  well  as, 
and  not  less  effectively  than,  through  the  medium  of  the 


The  Catholic  Church,  the  Patroness  of  Art         8'27 

understanding ;  whereas  persons  not  so  favoured,  present,  as 
a  rule,  but  one  channel  of  communication,  and  that,  perhaps, 
rarely  open  for  the  reception  of  spiritual  truth.  Hence  it  is 
that  the  Church,  from  the  earliest  ages,  has  made  use  of 
the  Fine  Arts,  not  only  as  a  means  of  appealing  to  the 
understanding,  but  also,  and  principally,  as  aids  in  ren- 
dering the  feelings  available  as  avenues  to  the  soul.  The 
eye  and  ear  she  has  made  captive  in  a  holy  service; 
and  the  arts  that  minister  pleasure  to  these  organs  she 
has  cultivated  and  encouraged  for  the  greater  glory 
of  God  and  the  edification  of  souls  entrusted  to  her 
charge. 

Setting  aside,  as  not  claiming  attention  in  an  essay  such 
as  this,  the  division  of  the  Fine  Arts  known  as  the  fugitive — 
under  which  are  comprehended  pantomine  and  elocution, 
dancing,  and  executive  music — we  pass  on  to  investigate 
those  of  a  permanent  character ;  namely,  poetry,  music, 
sculpture,  painting,  and  architecture.  We  shall  briefly 
examine  how  they  influence  the  soul  through  the  intellect 
and  the  feelings,  and  the  extent  to  which  they  have  been 
patronized  by  the  Church  at  the  successive  stages  of  their 
development. 

And  first  as  to  the  sister  arts,  poetry  and  music.  Both 
poetry  and  music  have  aesthetic  pleasure  for  their  primary 
end ;  but  while  music  addresses  itself  almost  solely  to  the 
feelings,  poetry  appeals  to  the  feelings  and  understanding 
alike.  In  both  the  imagination  and  fancy  play  a  highly 
important  part.  The  poet  does  not  give  us  mere  words,  nor 
the  musician  merely  black  marks  upon  paper ;  but  behind 
the  language  in  the  one  case  and  the  notes  in  the  other 
there  dwells  a  spirit  that  conjures  up  images  of  beauty  and 
sublimity  to  the  mental  vision ;  and  it  is  in  the  enjoyment 
of  these  images,  of  their  individual  symmetry  and  beauty,  of 
their  mutual  interdependence,  of  the  concatenation  of  ideas 
which  they  so  involve  as  to  communicate  to  the  whole  the 
character  known  as  plot-interest,  that  the  pleasures  of 
imagination  consist.  And  so  intense  may  the  enjoyment  of 
these  pleasures  become  to  cultured  minds  that  it  often 
effectively  restrains  them  from  seeking  after  the  gross  and 


828         The  Catholic  Church,  the  Patroness  of  Art. 

debasing  pleasures  of  sense.     Of  such  minds  Mark  Akenside 
writes  as  follows  : — 

"  O  blest  of  heaven  !  whom  not  the  languid  joys 
Of  luxury  the  syren,  nor  the  bribes 
Of  sordid  wealth,  nor  all  the  gaudy  spoils 
Of  pageant  honour,  can  seduce  to  leave 
Those  ever-blooming  sweets,  which  from  *  nature 
And  from  art'  fair  Imagination  culls 
To  charm  the  enlivened  soul." 

The  elements  of  music  that  contribute  to  produce  these 
effects  are  mainly  four :  timbre,  rhythm,  melody,  and  har- 
mony. Discrete  sounds  of  themselves  possess  elements  of 
beauty  that  are  calculated  to  produce  an  exquisite  sense  of 
pleasure.  Neither  the  sweetest  carol  of  the  thrush,  nor  the 
murmuring  ripple  of  the  streamlet,  nor  the  melancholy  sigh 
that  breathes  through  the  willow  or  the  vine,  contains  a  single 
element  of  rhythm  or  melody  or  harmony ;  and  yet  we  feel  that 
they  are  all  musical.  Music,  however,  in  its  most  artistic  form, 
embraces,  though  not  always  to  the  same  extent,  the  three 
other  elements  just  mentioned  :  rhythm,  which  marks  the 
time  by  regular  beats  or  pulsations ;  melody,  by  which  is  under- 
stood an  agreeable  succession  of  sounds  ;  and  harmony,  or 
the  simultaneous  blending  of  notes  that  possess  a  certain 
mathematical  relation  to  one  another.  When  these  elements 
are  combined  in  artistic  proportions  the  influence  of  music 
on  the  soul  can  hardly  be  exaggerated.  **  Music  hath  charms 
to  soothe  the  savage  breast."  It  is  a  divine  enchantress 
capable  of  compelling  the  malignant  Caliban  into  sub- 
mission, or  of  commanding  the  tricksty  Ariel  to  execute  its 
high  behests  : — 

"  It  comes  o'er  the  ear  like  the  sweet  south 
That  breathes  upon  a  bank  of  violets, 
Steahng  and  giving  odour  " — 

penetrating  at  one  time  the  deepest  recesses  of  despair,  and 
rescuing  the  timid  soul  from  gloomy  melancholy,  soaring  at 
another  to  the  loftiest  heights  of  ecstatic  joy,  bearing  us 
heavenward  on  its  wings,  and  suggesting  thoughts  of  bliss 
beyond  the  reaches  of  our  souls.     It  comes  to  us,  too, 

**  Burdened  with  a  grand  majestic  secret 
That  keeps  sweeping  from  us  evermore." 


The  Catholic  Church,  the  Patroness  of  Art.         829 

as  if  telling  us  of  something  above  us  and  beyond  us  only  to 
be  fully  revealed  in  the  life  beyond  the  stars. 

The  peculiarly  indefinite  character  of  music,  with  its 
infinite  possibility  of  suggesting  noble  thoughts  and  lofty 
aspirations,  has  led  many  to  believe  that  it  loses  much  of  its 
powers  when  allied  to  poetry.  But  it  has  not  been  found  so 
in  fact.  They  have  been  sister  arts  from  the  beginning,  and 
they  shall  be  so  to  the  end.  Possibly  it  may  be  true  that 
music — if  we  may  borrow  philosophical  terms — loses  much  of 
its  extension  when  tied  down  to  set  forms  of  speech ;  but,  if 
so,  it  acquires  a  larger  comprehension,  a  greater  intensity 
and  force.  And  few  will  be  prepared  to  deny  that  it  may 
be  often  well  to  sacrifice  an  uncertain  good  existing  only 
potentially  for  the  sake  of  gaining  a  certain  and  definite 
advantage.  That  a  decided  advantage  may  be  gained  is 
clear,  because  music  and  poetry  combined  appeal  to  the  soul 
directly  through  the  understanding  as  well  as  through  the 
feelings;  whereas  music,  as  we  have  seen,  addresses  itself 
for  the  most  part  to  the  feelings  alone.  No,  music  by  itself, 
or  poetry  by  itself,  can  rarely  lift  the  soul  to  the  empyrean 
heights  of  celestial  contemplation,  and  keep  it  there ;  but 
when  both  arts  are  united  inl  oving  embrace,  and  commune 
on  some  sacred  subject,  they  suggest  thoughts  and  feelings 
that  create  a  distaste  for  the  gross  pleasures  of  earth,  and 
lead  the  soul  to  fix  its  affections  upon  God  alone. 

Such  being  the  capabilities  of  poetry  and  music,  we  are 
prepared  to  find  that  the  Church  encouraged  their  cultivation 
at  every  stage  of  her  existence.  Nor  shall  we  be  dis- 
appointed. There  are  few  more  interesting  studies  than  the 
progress  made  by  these  arts  under  the  patronage  of  the 
Church  from  the  dawn  of  Christianity  even  until  now. 

And  first,  as  regards  poetry :  it  is  no  wonder  that  it 
should  be  so.  If  the  incidents  of  the  Trojan  war  suppHed 
materials  for  the  noblest  epic  that  ever  has  been  written  ; 
if  sentiments  of  earthly  love  or  ephemeral  patriotism  have 
mspired  the  most  passionate  lyrics  that  ever  have  found 
expression  through  the  lips  of  man  ;  if  the  fierce  courage  of 
Spartan  heroes,  or  the  treacherous  cruelty  of  Athenian 
tyrants  have   been   enshrined    in    immortal  verse   by  the 


830         The  Catholic  Church,  the  Patroness  of  Art 

dramatists  of  Greece ;  is  it  not  natural  to  expect  that  poets 
should  not  be  wanting  to  commemorate  events  of  such 
mysterious  and  ineffable  sublimity  as  the  Incarnation,  the 
Redemption,  and  the  sanctification  of  the  world?  Hence 
poets  were  to  be  found  in  the  apostolate  of  Christ,  In 
the  Apocalypse  of  St.  John  we  find  all  the  elements 
of  sublime  poetry :  intensity  of  passion,  beauty  of  de- 
scription, brilliancy  of  imagination,  play  of  fancy,  and 
eloquence  unsurpassed  in  its  directness  and  force — all  find 
expression  in  that  wonderful  book.  Coming  down  a  little 
further,  and  opening  the  Church's  liturgy,  we  find  the  Gloria, 
and  the  Preface,  and  the  Te  Deum,  and  the  beautiful 
Exultet  of  Holy  Saturday — some  of  which  are  attributed  to 
St.  Augustine  and  others  to  St.  Ambrose — all  displaying  an 
elevation  of  thought,  a  grace  and  dignity  of  expression, 
scarcely  surpassed  by  the  classic  poets  of  ancient  Greece  or 
Rome.  That  St.  Ambrose  was  endowed  with  a  brilliant 
poetic  genius,  is  manifest  not  only  from  the  works  just 
mentioned,  but  also  from  others.  The  hymns  sung  at 
Laudes  in  the  office  of  a  confessor  pontiff,  and  the  two 
hymns  sung  in  the  office  of  an  apostle  in  paschal  time — one 
beginning  Tristes  erant  Apostoli,  and  the  other  Paschale 
mundo  gaudium,  are  from  his  pen.  Nor  was  our  own 
country  behindhand  in  contributing  her  quota  to  the  poetry 
of  the  Church.  Early  in  the  fifth  century  a  poet  arose  in 
Ireland  named  Coelius  Sedulius ;  and  so  widespread  became 
bis  fame  both  in  the  east  and  in  the  west,  that  he  is  known 
throughout  the  Church  as  the  *'  Christian  Virgil."  Besides 
the  well-known  hymns  A  Solis  ortu  cardine  and  Crudelis 
Herodes  Deum,  he  also  wrote  the  celebrated  epic  known  as 
the  Carmeii  Paschale,  to  which  Dr.  Healy  refers  as  follows  in 
his  Ancient  Schools  and  Scholars  : — 

"  The  Carmen  Paschale  is  divided  into  five  books.  The  first 
treats  of  the  creation  and  fall  of  man,  as  well  as  of  the  principal 
miracles  recorded  in  the  Old  Testament ;  the  second  gives  a 
beautiful  account  of  the  incarnation  and  birth  of  our  Lord,  and 
the  wonders  of  the  holy  childhood  ;  the  third  and  fourth  deal 
with  the  miracles  and  noteworthy  events  of  our  Saviour's  public 
mission  ;  while  the  fifth  details  the  passion,  death,  and  resurrec- 
tion of  Christ.    Each  of  the  books  contains  from  three  to  four 


The  Catholic  Church,  the  Patroness  of  Art.         831 

hundred  lines  of  heroic  metre,  in  which  the  style  and  language  of 
Virgil  are  as  closely  imitated  as  the  nature  of  the  subject  will 
permit.  The  language  is  chaste,  elegant,  and  harmonious,  impart- 
ing dignity  even  to  commonplace  topics,  as  Virgil  does  in  his 
Georgics.  We  would  take  the  liberty  of  strongly  recommending 
the  careful  perusal  of  this  beautiful  poem  to  priests  who  are 
anxious  to  read  tlie  great  events  of  sacred  history  clothed  in 
elegant  language  and  adorned  with  becoming  imagery." 

And  the  epic  of  Sedulius  was  but  the  prelude  of  even 
loftier  efforts  by  subsequent,  though  perhaps  less  famous, 
poets.  With  the  rise  of  mysticism  and  scholasticism  a  new 
poetic  spirit  took  possession  of  the  cloister,  firing  the  minds 
of  its  occupants  with  enthusiastic  love,  which  enabled  them 
to  contemplate  Christian  mysteries  in  a  light  hitherto 
unknown.  The  result  was  such  noble  lyrics  as  the  Pange 
Lingua  and  Lauda  Sion  of  Aquinas,  the  Dies  Irae  of  St. 
Thomas  of  Celano,  and  the  Stabat  Mater  of  the  Franciscan 
Brother  Jacobinus — all  evincing  a  sublimity  of  thought  and 
a  tenderness  of  pathos  unsurpassed  in  the  whole  range  of 
literature.  It  was  under  the  influence  of  the  same  spirit, 
which  after  a  brief  interval  found  its  way  into  the  w^orld, 
that  Dante  wrote  his  Divine  Comedy,  which  is  universally 
admitted  to  be  one  of  the  noblest  productions  of  human 
genius  that  have  ever  appeared.  Centuries  elapsed,  but  the 
spirit  of  poetry  lived  on,  fostered  by  the  Church  ;  and  so 
when  the  demon  of  revolt  arose  in  the  sixteenth  century 
she  found  her  Tasso,  and  her  Lope  de  Vega,  and  her 
Calderon,  to  sing  the  mysteries  of  faith  with  an  eloquence 
and  sweetness  all  their  own.  Thus  it  was  then,  and  thus  it  is 
to-day.  If  we  open  the  Church's  missal,  we  shall  find  poetry  in 
its  sequences;  if  we  open  the  Church's  breviary,  we  shall  find 
poetry  in  its  offices ;  if  w^e  open  the  waitings  of  the  Popes,  from 
St.  Peter  the  first,  to  the  august  pontiff  who  rules  to-day  with 
such  austere  dignity  and  brilliant  intellectual  power,  we  shall 
find  poetry  making  up  a  considerable  portion  of  the  works  they 
have  produced.  With  this  record  before  our  minds,  surely  we 
may  conclude  with  safety  that,  as  regards  poetry,  at  least,  the 
Catholic  Church  deserves  the  title  of  Patroness  of  Art. 

If  poetry  has  thus  been  cultivated  by  the  Church,  it  is  un- 
likely that  she  could  have  allowed  its  sister  Art,  Music  to  lie 


882         The  Gtttholic  Church,  the  Patroness  of  Art. 

fallow  and  neglected.  Indeed,  so  far  was  this  from  being  the 
case,  that  music,  as  a  Fine  Art,  remained  for  many  centuries 
the  exclusive  property  of  the  Church  ;  and  whatever  beauty 
or  sublimity  breathes  through  the  musical  compositions  that 
charm  the  intellectual  world  of  to-day  may  be  traced  either 
directly  or  indirectly  to  the  influence  of  the  Church. 

That  music  has  existed  from  the  very  infancy  of  the  world 
as  an  accompaniment  of  religious  worship,  is  clear  from  the 
history  of  the  Jewish  nation .  Indeed,  so  important  an  element 
did  it  form  in  the  religion  of  the  people,  that  writers  undertake 
to  tell  us  the  precise  nature  of  the  instruments  used,  of  the 
modes  employed,  of  the  stops  and  cadences  and  intonations 
observed,  in  "  the  music  of  the  Temple."      That  the  Greeks 
had  attained  even  a  higher  proficiency  in  the  art,  appears 
certain  from  many  allusions  to  the  fundamental  principles  of 
musical  science  in  the  works  of  Aristotle  and  Plato.     They 
speak  of  purity  of  tone,  rapidity  of  vibrations,  and  the  mathe- 
matical  relations   of    one    sound    to    another.      So    much 
importance  did  they  attach  to  relative  distance  as  an  essential 
element  in  the  production  of  musical  sound,  that  because  the 
heavenly  bodies  are   separated   by  certain  distances   from 
one  another,  they  believed  in  the  exploded  doctrine  of  "  the 
music  of  the  spheres."     We  are  prepared  therefore  to  expect 
that  at  the  dawn  of  Christianity  some  knowledge  of  music 
existed  among  both  the  Hebrews  and  the  Greeks.     Of  its 
precise   nature  it  is  no  longer  possible  to  obtain   definite 
information  ;  but  that  it  existed  in  some  form  there  appears 
to  be  no  room  for  doubt.     The  evangelist  hints  that  there 
was  music  at  the  Last  Supper.     St.  Paul  alludes  more  than 
once  to  the  music  of  the  Corinthians  ;  and  the  Fathers  make 
frequent  mention  of  the  music  that  accompanied  the  agapae, 
or  love-feasts  of  the  primitive* Church.     It  was  not,  however, 
until  the  time  of  St.  Ambrose  that  ecclesiastical  music  began 
to  make  progress.     He  had  travelled  much  in  the  East,  and 
had   become   acquainted   with  the  several  systems  existing 
there,  and  hence  he  was  in  a  position,  on  being  appointed  to 
the  important  See  of  Milan,  to  provide  for  the  Church  a  com- 
plete ritual  both  in  words  and  music.     He  seems  to  have 
adopted  the    system  prevailing  among   the   Greeks  as  the 


The  Catholic  Church,  the  Patroness  of  Art.        833 

basis  of  his  own,  and  to  have  distinguished  the  three  elements — 
metre,  rhythm,  and  melody.  But  whether  this  was  so  or  not, 
so  successful  was  the  style  of  singing  he  introduced,  so 
sublime  its  majesty,  so  tender  its  pathos,  so  sweet  and 
affecting  the  beauty  of  its  melody,  that,  as  St.  Augustine 
informs  us,  it  often  forced  tears  into  the  eyes  of  the 
audience. 

Yet  "  his  system,"  as  an  ancient  critic  remarks,  ''  bore 
within  itself  the  seeds  of  its  own  death."  Pitched  only  in 
four  modes,  its  total  inadequacy  for  the  expression  of  the 
varied  thought  and  feeling  embodied  in  the  Christian  liturgy 
soon  became  apparent,  and  suggested  to  many  the  necessity 
of  further  change.  The  remedy  was  not  long  delayed. 
Towards  the  close  of  the  sixth  century  the  great  St.  Gregory 
arose,  and,  in  addition  to  other  salutary  reforms,  he  so 
improved  the  imperfect  musical  system  of  St.  Ambrose  as  to 
accommodate  it  to  all  the  needs  of  the  Church.  The  change 
consisted  in  the  substitution  of  eight  different  modes  for  the 
four  hitherto  existing,  and  in  the  combination  under  them 
of  elements  drawn  partly  from  the  Hebrew,  partly  from  the 
Greek,  and  partly  from  other  sources  in  the  Church.  Nor 
was  this  illustrious  pontiff  satisfied  with  merely  giving  to 
the  Christian  world  a  new  musical  system;  he  also  took 
measures  to  secure  its  permanence  and  universality.  He 
established  at  Kome  a  celebrated  musical  college,  whither 
flocked  ecclesiastics  from  every  part  of  Christendom  to 
learn  the  art  of  music  from  the  great  pontiff  himself.  And 
of  the  many  bands  of  missionaries  that  he  sent  forth  to 
preach  the  gospel  to  the  nations,  there  was  not  one  that  had 
not  its  chanters  and  its  choir  master  to  surround  the 
preaching  of  Christian  truth  with  the  embellishment  of 
Christian  music.  Witness,  among  a  host  of  similar  examples, 
the  arrival  in  Kent,  in  the  year  596,  of  St.  Augustine  and  his 
companions,  bearing  '*  the  glad  tidings  of  the  gospel  "  to  the 
people  of  Great  Britain. 

When  St.  Gregory  had  passed  away  his  successors  in  the 

pontificate   were   scarcely   less    zealous    in   promoting   the 

interests  of  the  good  cause.     And  they  were  ably  seconded 

in  their  efforts   by  the   secular   authority  throughout   the 

VOL.  XII.  3  G 


834         The  CatlioUc  Church,  the  Patroness  of  Art 

world.  Never  has  there  existed,  for  instance,  a  more 
enthusiastic  patron  of  Gregorian  music  than  the  illustrious 
Charlemagne  himself.  Not  only  did  he  insist  on  his  own 
children  learning  Gregorian  chant,  hut  he  maintained  a 
special  Gregorian  choir  at  court,  and  had  schools  of  Gregorian 
music,  presided  over  by  Eoman  masters,  established  in 
several  parts  of  his  dominions.  His  first  act  on  entering 
any  important  city  was  to  march  in  military  pomp 
to  the  cathedral,  and  there  to  insist  on  the  local  clergy 
singing  some  choice  selections  of  Gregorian  music  for 
his  special  delectation.  ''  And,"  say  the  old  chroniclers, 
*' little  chance  had  the  ecclesiastic  of  promotion  to  Church 
dignities  who  failed  to  sing  his  part  to  the  satisfaction  of  the 
emperor." 

But  evil  days  were  at  hand.  The  Carlovingian  dynasty 
passed  away,  and  many  of  the  successors  of  Hugh  Capet, 
far  from  emulating  the  noble  virtues  of  the  illustrious 
Charlemagne,  preferred  rather  to  distinguish  themselves 
by  opposition  to  the  Church  and  disregard  for  its 
ceremonial.  Then  the  great  Western  schism  began,  and 
around  the  papal  court  at  Avignon  arose  a  band  of  singers 
whose  compositions  breathed  rather  the  spirit  of  romantic 
love,  celebrated  by  the  Troubadours,  than  the  grave 
solemnity  that  is  becoming  to  the  music  of  the  Church.  If 
Baini,  the  celebrated  historian  of  the  papal  choir,  is  to  be 
believed,  ecclesiastical  music,  at  this  period,  reached  such  a 
low  ebb,  that  many  councils — especially  those  of  Treves  and 
Vienna — were  obliged  to  make  solemn  protest  against  several 
mischievous  innovations  then  appearing  in  the  Church.  It 
was  not,  however,  until  the  Council  of  Trent  that  the  evil 
we  have  referred  to  was  effectually  checked.  The  question 
of  ecclesiastical  music  was  brought  before  the  assembled 
prelates  in  the  twenty-second  and  twenty-fourth  sessions  of 
that  august  body  ;  and  as  a  result  it  was  decided  that  St. 
Charles  Borromeo  and  Cardinal  Yitellozi  should  be  appointed 
to  devise  a  means  for  the  reformation  of  ecclesiastical  music. 
There  was  then  in  Eome,  attached  to  the  papal  choir,  a 
distinguished  musician,  Giovanni  Pierluigi  Palestrina,  several 
of    whose    compositions — especially    his    Improper ia — had 


The  Catholic  Church,  the  Patroness  of  Art.         835 

attracted  considerable  attention  for  their  truly  ecclesiastical 
spirit ;  and  to  him  the  two  delegates  of  the  Tridintine 
Council  entrusted  the  task  of  writing  suitable  composi- 
tions for  the  offices  of  the  Church.  The  result  was  the 
Musica  Pelestrinensis,  which,  for  solemn  grandeur  and 
sacred  sublimity  becoming  to  the  word  of  God,  had 
never  been  equalled  before,  and  has  never  been  equalled 
since. 

But  while  Palestrina  was  yet  living,  the  great  rehgious 
upheaval  of  the  sixteenth  century  was  accomplished 
throughout  Europe ;  and  a  secularizing  spirit  arose  not 
only  in  religion,  but  in  every  other  department  of  science  and 
art ;  and  after  a  time  ecclesiastical  music  also,  yielding  to  the 
influence  of  superior  force,  seemed  to  be  sweeping  towards 
the  vortex  where  so  much  that  had  once  been  sacred  and 
venerable  was  now  swallowed  up  for  ever.  But  the  Catholic 
Church  has  proved  no  laggard.  For  the  last  three  centuries 
more  than  ever  has  she  set  her  face  against  degrading  the 
sacred  and  solemn  music  of  her  ritual  to  the  sensual  level  of 
the  opera ;  and  though  she  still  finds  much  to  admire  in 
compositions  that  are  not  Gregorian — in  the  oratorios  of 
Handel,  and  the  fugues  of  Bach,  and  the  sonatas  of 
Beethoven — yet  she  ever  keeps  before  us,  as  the  loftiest  ideal 
for  ecclesiastical  purposes,  the  sublime  compositions  that 
Palestrina  has  bequeathed  to  posterity.  If  we  examine 
her  policy,  therefore,  from  the  first  ages  of  Christianity, 
we  cannot  fail  to  be  convinced  that  in  music  as  in 
poetry  she  is  justified  in  claiming  the  title  of  "  Patroness 
of  Art." 

As  the  Church  claims  to  be  the  patroness  of  poetry  and 
music — arts  which  appeal  to  the  ear — she  is  no  less  so  of 
sculpture  and  painting,  which  address  themselves  to  the  eye. 
If  the  two  former  deserve  cultivation,  because  of  the  manner 
in  which  they  enhance  the  beauty  and  eloquence  of  her 
ceremonial,  the  two  latter  demand  attention  as  auxiliaries 
in  the  ornamentation  of  the  material  edifice  in  which  she 
worships.  Nay,  the  latter  would  seem  to  merit  even,  more 
attention  than  the  former;  for  while  the  aim  of  music 
is   often   indefinite,  and   the  language   of  poetry  obscure, 


836         The  Catholic  Church,  the  Patroness  of  Art.     . 

sculpture  and  painting  are  always  forcible  and  direct,  speak- 
ing with  unmistakable  eloquence  to  the  intellect  and  the 
heart.  There  are  special  reasons,  therefore,  why  their 
study  and  cultivation  should  be  patronized  by  the 
Church. 

Painting  is  the  poetry  of  light,  and  shape,  and  colour ; 
sculpture  is  the  poetry  of  vital  form.  To  be  classed  among 
the  Fine  Arts  they  must  both  appeal  to  the  imagination. 
A  mere  photographer  is  not  a  painter,  even  though  he  uses 
colours  ;  a  simple  stone-cutter  is  not  a  sculptor,  even  though 
he  succeeds  in  carving  the  rough  outlines  of  a  human  figure. 
Painter  and  sculptor  alike  must  be  able  not  only  to  show  us 
external  features,  but,  moreover,  to  suggest  a  world  of 
thought  which  the  dry  lineaments  cannot  reveal.  Lord 
Macaulay  tells  us  that  the  most  striking  characteristic  of 
Milton's  poetry  is  its  suggestiveness.  "  Its  effects  are  pro- 
duced not  so  much  by  what  it  expresses  as  by  what  it  suggests  ; 
not  so  much  by  the  ideas  which  it  directly  conveys,  as  by 
other  ideas  that  are  connected  with  them.  He  electrifies 
the  mind  through  conductors."  Thus,  also,  must  it  be  with 
the  sculptor  and  the  painter.  As  the  tiniest  flower  of  the 
field  became  for  St.  Theresa  a  subject  for  meditation,  so  the 
simplest  production  of  the  artist  must  furnish  abundant 
materials  for  a  lengthened  train  of  thought.  This  may  be 
accomplished  partly  by  the  form,  partly  by  the  colouring, 
but  principally  by  the  expression  of  the  figures  introduced. 
We  shall  exemplify  what  we  mean.  It  is  an  undoubted  fact, 
that  the  Madonnas  of  Fra  Angelico  or  of  Fra  Bartholomeo, 
have  inspired  a  greater  love  of  the  angelic  virtue  than  the 
most  eloquent  discourses  that  have  ever  been  delivered  on 
the  immaculate  purity  of  the  Mother  of  God  ;  it  is  a  truth 
which  cannot  be  gainsaid,  that  the  Bacchanalian  pictures  of 
Teniers  have  created  more  sots  than  the  largest  brewery  in 
the  Low  Countries  has  ever  succeeded  in  producing ;  and  all 
this  because  of  the  different  trains  of  thought  suggested  by  the 
paintings  exposed  to  public  view.  Here  we  have  examples 
of  true  Art,  though,  of  course,  with  tendencies  diametrically 
opposed.  The  picture  may  be  in  oil,  in  fresco,  or  in  glass  ; 
the  statue  may  be  in  marble,  in  bronze,  or  in  terra-cotta  : 


The  Catholic  Church,  the  Patroness  of  Art.         837 

but  if  it  fail  to  produce  effects  analogous  to  those 
referred  to,  it  deserves  not  to  be  classed  under  the  catagory 
of  Art. 

But  if  sculpture  and  painting  possess  this  property  in  com- 
mon, they  have  also  some  points  of  difference.  They  differ  in 
their  materials  ;  they  differ  in  their  mode  of  working ;  they 
differ  especially  in  their  ideals.  The  materials  of  sculpture 
being  hard,  and  the  execution  slow  and  difficult,  the  art,  to 
be  at  all  profitable,  must  aim  at  high  ideals ;  otherwise  the 
labourer  v/ould  not  be  worthy  of  his  hire.  Hence  its  objects 
of  imitation  are  the  human  figure,  the  nobler  animals,  or 
the  more  beautiful  and  symbolic  specimens  of  the  vegetable 
world.  Painting,  on  the  other  hand,  being  comparatively 
easy  when  the  art  has  been  once  acquired,  may  embrace  an 
unlimited  range  of  subjects.  From  an  icicle  to  an  iceberg, 
from  a  streamlet  ripple  to  a  sea  storm,  from  a  daisy  in  the 
field  to  a  broad-armed  sycamore  in  the  forest,  from  a 
beggar  boy  in  the  street  to  the  bright-winged  cherubim 
upon  their  thrones — all  may  become  legitimate  subjects  for 
the  painter's  brush.  But  there  never  yet  has  been  an  artist 
of  the  highest  order  who  has  not,  under  the  influence  of 
faith  and  noble  sentiments,  devoted  the  supreme  efforts  of 
his  genius  to  the  representation  of  supernatural  subjects 
and  the  elucidation  of  divine  truth ;  for  these  alone  can 
furnish  inspiration  for  the  highest  forms  of  Art.  And  it  is 
well  that  it  has  been  so  ;  for  the  painter's  brush  and  the 
sculptor's  chisel  can  do  almost  as  much  for  the  advancement 
of  truth  and  virtue  as  the  sword  of  the  Christian  warrior, 
or  the  tongue  of  the  Christian  priest.  Such  being  the  case,  it 
is  no  marvel  that  the  Church  has  been  an  enthusiastic 
patroness  of  these  arts  from  her  first  institution  even  until 
now. 

It  would  be  superfluous,  in  an  essay  on  the  Church's 
patronage  of  Art  to  attempt  a  disquisition  on  the  relative 
merits  of  pagan  and  Christian  sculpture  at  the  time  that 
each  attained  its  highest  excellence.  Let  it  be  sufficient  to 
remark  that  nothing  has  been  produced  in  Christian  art — not 
even  the  "Baptism  of  Christ"  by  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  nor  the 
*'  Moses,"  of  Michael  Angelo — which  can  surpass,  in  grace  of 


838         The  Catholic  Charch,  the  Patroness  of  Art. 

form  and  expression  of  manly  dignity,  the  statue  of  Apollo 
Belvidere  in  the  Vatican  Library: — 

"  The  lord  of  the  unerring  bow, 
The  god  of  life  and  poesy  and  light — 
The  sun  in  human  limbs  arrayed, 
All  radiant  from  his  triumph  in  the  light ; 
The  shaft  hath  just  been  shot— the  arrow  bright 
With  an  immortal's  vengeance  ;  in  his  eye 
And  nostril  beautiful  disdain  and  might 
And  majesty  flash  their  full  lightnings  by, 
Developing  in  that  one  glance  the  Deity." 

Nor  has  Christian  sculpture  anything  to  show  superior, 
as  a  study  of  human  anatomy  to  that  famous  group  in  the 
Vatican,  representing 

''  Laocoon's  torture  dignifying  pain — 
A  father's  love  and  mortal's  agony 
With  an  immortal's  patience  blending." 

In  truth  it  must  be  admitted  that  of  all  the  permanent 
Arts,  sculpture  has  received  least  of  the  Church's  patronage 
and  attention.  The  danger  of  idolatry  in  the  early  ages  of 
Christianity,  and  the  preference  for  nude  figures  at  all 
subsequent  periods,  rendered  the  Church  more  chary  than 
otherwise  she  might  have  been  about  extending  an  unlimited 
license  to  the  exercise  of  scuplture.  Yet  we  are  by  no  means 
to  infer  that,  when  she  found  it  suitable  for  religious  pur- 
poses, she  did  not  encourage  it  to  its  full.  In  the  Catacombs 
are  found  numerous  sculptured  figures,  for  the  most  part 
symbolical  representations  of  the  chief  mysteries  of  religion. 
They  are  generally  carved  on  sarcophagi,  and  consist  of  the 
cross,  the  monogram  of  Christ,  the  lamb,  the  fish  symbo- 
lizing the  Saviour— the  Greek  1^0 v^  being  formed  of  the 
initial  letters  of  the  Kedeemer's  name  and  title — and  a 
number  of  others.  They  are  not  characterized  by  any  supe- 
rior artistic  elegance,  but,  from  the  standpoint  of  the 
theologian,  they  are  of  the  highest  importance.  They  prove 
that  the  early  Christians  were  firm  believers  in  the  doctrine 
of  the  real  presence,  of  the  sacrifice  of  the  mass,  of  the  cult 
of  sacred  images,  and  of  many  other  dogmas  of  Catholic 
faith  which  Protestants  would  have  us  believe  were  innova- 
tions of  a  later  datQ, 


The  Catlwlic  Church,  the  Patroness  oj  Art.         839 

But  artistic  genius  is  naturally  progressive.  ^Mien 
Constantine  embraced  the  Christian  religion,  and  the  Church 
came  forth  in  triumph  from  the  Catacombs,  where  she  had 
been  imprisoned  for  three  centuries,  as  her  Divine  Master  had 
arisen  from  the  sepulchre  where  he  had  lain  buried  for  three 
days,  a  greater  freedom  and  power  became  at  once  per- 
ceptible in  the  productions  of  Christian  Art.  We  begin  to 
meet  with  sculptured  representations  of  Christ  and  the 
Apostles,  sometimes  in  marble,  but  generally  in  bronze  or 
ivory,  and  displaying  a  higher  artistic  finish  as  years  advance. 
Not  until  the  Eomanesque  period,  however,  which  embraces 
the  tenth  and  eleventh  centuries,  did  sculpture  begin  to  be 
applied  to  altars,  diptichs,  and  reliquaries.  It  was  at  this 
period  that  our  own  country  excelled  most  others  in  Europe 
by  its  admirable  designs  in  bronze  and  metal,  many  speci- 
mens of  which  are  still  preserved  in  the  museum  of  the  Eoyal 
Irish  Academy.  But  something  further  was  still  necessary 
before  sculpture  could  attain  perfection.  With  the  thirteenth 
century  ended  the  Crusades,  and  the  heroic  warriors  who 
had  borne  the  cross  in  the  East  returned  with  their  new 
ideas,  infusing  a  spirit  of  enthusiastic  faith  and  romantic 
bravery  into  the  mind  of  Christendom.  A  change  in  the 
forms  of  Art  was  the  natural  consequence,  and  then  we 
behold  rising  into  mid-air  magnificent  Gothic  structures, 
ornamented  with  numerous  statues,  in  which  power  and 
dignity  are  blended  in  a  manner  hitherto  unknown  to  Chris- 
tian Art.  Examine  the  western  front  of  the  cathedral  at 
Kheims  or  at  Cologne,  and  there  yoa  will  behold  the  beauty 
of  arrangement,  the  majesty  of  pose,  the  natural  simplicity 
of  drapery,  and  the  individual  characterization  that  bespeak 
the  essential  features  of  this  interesting  period. 

But  the  Augustine  age  of  Christian  sculpture  had  not  yet 
arrived.  It  remained  lor  two  distinguished  pontiffs  of  the 
sixteenth  centurj^ — Julius  II.  and  Leo  X. — to  bring  this 
art  to  its  perfection.  Convinced  that  the  study  of  correct 
models  is  the  surest  road  to  success,  in  this,  as  in  every 
other  department  of  knowledge,  these  illustrious  men  spared 
neither  trouble  nor  expense  in  their  efforts  to  recover  the 
classic  statues  that  for  centuries  had  lain  buried  beneath  the 


840         The  CatJiolic  Churchy  the  Patroness  of  Art. 

Tiber  and  Arno  and  in  many  other  parts  of  Italy  ;  and  in  a 
brief  period  the  halls  of  the  Vatican  and  the  palace  of  the 
Medici  became  centres  of  artistic  energy,  whither  students 
of  Art  repaired  in  crowds  from  every  country  in  Europe. 
The  result  was  that  a  galaxy  of  artistic  genius  appeared  in 
Italy,  with  Leonardo  da  Vinci  and  Michael  Angelo  as  its 
most  brilliant  lights  ;  and  immediately  there  began  to  come 
forth,  from  the  lifeless  marble  of  the  quarry,  majestic 
figures,  bold  in  every  feature,  true  to  nature  in  every  outline, 
apparently  informed  with  a  human  soul  that  made  them  live 
and  breathe.  The  tourist  to  Italy  will  pass  from  the  "Medici 
Venus"  intheUffizito  examine  the  "  David"  intheNational 
Gallery  at  Florence,  will  turn  from  ''Apollo  Bel  videre"  in  the 
Vatican  to  study  the  statue  of  "Moses"  in  the  Church  of 
St.  Peter  ad  Vincula,  and  will  come  away  uncertain  whether 
to  award  the  palm  of  victory  to  Cleomenes  of  Athens  or 
the  unknown  sculptor  of  the  Apollo  or  the  illustrious 
Michael  Angelo,  the  king  of  Christian  Art.  But  whatever 
be  his  decision,  one  thought,  at  least,  must  force  itself  upon 
his  mind — that  mankind  owes  a  debt  of  infinite  gratitude 
to  the  Catholic  Church,  whose  patronage  has  either  preserved 
or  created  these  masterpieces,  which  shall  serve  as  sources 
of  inspiration  until  the  end  of  time. 

Christian  painting  arose  simultaneously  with  Christian 
sculpture,  and,  because  of  its  easier  adaptability  to  religious 
uses,  received  a  much  more  enthusiastic  encouragement 
from  the  Church.  The  walls  of  the  Catacombs  still  retain 
designs  similar  in  character  to  those  already  referred  to. 
There  is  a  peculiar  feature  of  these  paintings  that  Protestant 
writers  have  misunderstood,  and  have,  in  consequence, 
charged  the  early  Christians  with  ignorance  of  the  Scriptures. 
I  refer  to  what  has  been  designated  by  some  compenetration , 
or  the  co-existence  in  one  picture  of  two  or  more  scenes 
that  either  are  incompatible,  or  else  have  no  apparent  connec- 
tion with  one  another.  For  instance,  Adam  and  Eve  are 
represented  in  the  act  of  yielding  to  the  temptation,  yet 
wearing  the  garments  assumed  subsequently  to  their  fall ; 
the  Eedeemer  is  sometimes  depicted  in  the  act  of  striking 
the   rock,   whence   at   the  command  of  Moses  flowed  the 


The  Catholic  Church,  the  Patroness  of  Art         841 

stream  of  water  that  followed  the  Israelites  in  the  desert ; 
the  Blessed  Virgin  is  shown  as  standing  upon  a  mountain 
in  an  attitude  of  prayer,  her  uplifted  arms  sustained  by 
St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  while  a  battle  rages  in  the  distance; 
and  other  designs  of  a  similar  character.  Now,  it  is 
manifest  that  these  paintings,  so  far  from  substantiating  the 
charge  of  ignorance  against  the  early  Christians,  argue,  on  the 
contrary,  rare  powers  of  invention  which  discovered  in  the 
incidents  of  the  Old  Testament  a  hidden  significance  that 
was  calculated  to  shed  considerable  light  on  the  mysteries 
of  Christianity. 

The  first  remarkable  change  in  the  style  of  painting 
synchronizes  with  the  transfer  of  the  seat  of  empire  to  the 
East  in  the  year  328 ;  and  for  many  centuries  the  peculiar 
features  of  the  Byzantine  school — a  certain  dryness  and 
uniformity  of  execution,  together  with  an  unnatural  leanness 
and  elongation  of  the  human  figure — continued  to  prevail. 
The  most  interesting  remains  of  this  period  are  designs  of 
manuscript  illumination,  which  are  preserved  in  the  Vatican 
Library  and  in  the  public  museums  in  the  East.  At  the 
beginning  of  the  eighth  century  there  appeared  many 
indications  of  the  advent  of  broader  views  and  of  a  higher 
artistic  spirit ;  but  just  then  arose  the  Iconoclasts,  who, 
impelled  by  blind  bigotry  and  unholy  zeal,  demolished  every 
object  of  Christian  Art  that  came  within  their  reach. 
Stunned  by  this  deadly  blow  the  artistic  spirit  of  the  Church 
seemed  to  slumber  for  many  centuries.  In  the  meantime, 
no  doubt,  splendid  work  was  being  done,  especially  in  our 
Irish  monastic  houses,  in  the  department  of  manuscript 
illumination ;  but  the  muse  of  painting,  in  its  highest  sense, 
remained  inactive,  nor  did  she  awaken  from  her  slumber 
until  roused  into  life  and  energy  by  the  artists  of  Italy,  at 
the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century. 

The  pioneers  of  the  revival  were  Guido  of  Sienna,  Giunto 
of  Pisa,  and  Cimabue  of  Florence.  Their  paintings  exhibit 
a  pious  and  majestic  expression,  and  are  invariably  executed 
on  a  gold  ground  ;  but  their  figures  still  retain  the  defect  of 
immoderate  elongation,  characteristic,  as  has  been  seen,  of 
the  old  Byzantine  school.     Gradually,  however,  even  these 


842         The  Catholic  Church,  the  Patroness  of  Art. 

shortcomings  disappeared.  Spurred  on  by  a  laudable  spirit 
of  emulation,  the  two  rival  schools  of  Florence  and  Sienna 
attempted  the  boldest  flights  into  the  highest  regions  of  Art. 
Both  drew  their  subjects  from  sacred  history  or  ecclesiasti- 
cal tradition ;  but  while  the  Florentine  school  breathed  a 
dramatic  spirit,  which  found  expression  in  a  preponderance 
of  action  and  energy  and  external  nature,  the  school  of 
Umbria  was  lyrical  in  its  tone,  and  was  marked  by  a  sweet- 
ness and  tenderness  of  expression  and  calm  repose  that 
bespeak  the  quietude  and  happiness  of  the  soul  within.  The 
school  of  Florence  soon  outstripped  its  less  aspiring  rival, 
and  the  masterpieces  of  Giotto,  Fra  Angelico,  Masaccio, 
Fra  Bartolomeo,  and  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  bear  ample 
testimony  to  the  success  that  crowned  the  efforts  of  its  muse. 
Painting,  however,  like  its  sister  art,  did  not  reach  its 
loftiest  ideal  in  Italy  until  Michael  Angelo  and  Kaffael, 
warmly  encouraged  and  generously  subsidized  by  the  two 
illustrious  pontiffs  already  referred  to,  undertook  the 
decoration  of  the  Sistine  chapel  and  of  the  halls  of  the 
Vatican. 

In  the  year  1511,  Michael  Angelo  commenced  his  work, 
and  at  the  end  of  twenty  months  had  completed  those 
immortal  frescoes  which  have  become  the  envy  and  admira- 
tion of  all  subsequent  artists.  The  different  compartments 
in  the  ceiling  of  the  chapel  are  occupied  with  subjects  of 
ancient  history ;  and  from  the  walls  appear  to  walk  forth 
those  seemingly  solid  figures  which  unfold  graces  of  form 
and  character  beyond  the  limits  of  nature,  and  commensurate 
with  the  exalted  functions  in  which  they  seem  to  be  engaged. 
The  "  Last  Judgment  "  above  the  altar  is  the  masterpiece 
of  this  gifted  genius  ;  and,  though  obscured  by  age,  and 
dimmed  by  carbonic  deposits  from  the  candles  beneath,  it 
remains  to-day  the  most  admired  feature  of  the  Sistine 
chapel,  which  is  the  artistic  glory  of  the  Church. 

While  Angelo  was  thus  engaged,  ''the  divine  Raffael," 
as  the  Italians  love  to  call  him,  was  occupied  in  decorating 
the  halls  of  the  Vatican  with  those  celebrated  paintings,  in 
which,  as  an  able  critic  observes,  "  body  and  soul,  sentiment 
?ind  passion,  the  sensuous  and  the  spiritual,  receive  each  its 


The  Catholic  Church,  the  Patroness  of  Art.  843 

just  degree  of  prominence."  Among  this  celebrated  group, 
"  The  Dispute  on  the  Sacrament,"  ''  The  Meeting  of  Leo 
and  Atilla,"  and  "  The  Mass  of  Bolsena,"  hold  prominent 
positions.  A  peculiar  feature  of  most  of  Itaffael's  pictures  is 
that  they  contain  portraits  of  some  of  his  contemporaries, 
especially  of  his  patrons  and  friends.  Thus,  in  "Leo  and 
Atilla,"  Leo  X.  is  made  to  represent  his  illustrious  name- 
sake, and  Atilla  disappears  to  make  room  for  Louis  XII.  of 
France.  So,  too,  in  the  "  Disputa,"  Bramante,  the  architect 
of  St.  Peter's,  and  an  intimate  friend  of  the  artist,  finds  a 
place;  while  in  the  "Mass  of  Bolsena,"  Julius  II.  is  repre- 
sented kneeling  before  the  altar,  and  gazing  with  an 
expression  of  wonderment  upon  the  Bleeding  Host.  Thus 
has  this  illustrious  artist  transmitted  to  us  not  alone  master- 
pieces of  genius,  but  also  faithful  portraits  of  the  most 
distinguished  personages  of  his  time. 

Any  notice  of  Eaffael  that  should  omit  all  reference  to 
his  cartoons  would  necessarily  be  imperfect ;  a  few  remarks 
must,  therefore,  be   added   on    these    celebrated    pictures. 
Leo  X.,  having  decided  to  ornament  some  of  the  halls  of  the 
Vatican  with  Flanders  tapestry,  then  the  finest  in  Europe, 
desired   Eaffael   to    supply  the  designs   from  subjects  of  a 
Scriptural   character   suited    to    the    purpose.     The    artist 
selected  scenes  from  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  and  had  the 
cartoons  finished  in  a  few  weeks.     The  tapestry  having  been 
woven  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  pontiff,  the  cartoons,  cut 
into  strips  by   the  weavers,  who   deemed  them  no  longer 
valuable,  were  cast  aside,  and  remained  completely  forgotten 
for  upwards  of  a  hundred  years.     Charles  I.  of  England,  who, 
though  unfortunate  as  a  ruler,  yet  had  a  cultured  taste  in 
Art,  heard  of  them   by  accident,  and  secured   them  at    a 
small  sum  for  his  Court  in  London.      Owing  to  the  political 
disturbances  of  the  period,  however,  they  were  again  suffered 
to  remain  neglected  for  more  than  half  a  century.     It  was 
only  in  the  reign  of  William  III.  that  their  high  artistic 
merit  was  recognised,  and  that  they  were  fitted  up  to  furnish 
one  of  the  apartments  in  Hampton  Court.     At  present,  after 
being  the  wonder  and  admiration  of  more  than  two  centuries 
of  artists,  they  are  the  greatest  object  of  attraction  in  the 


844  The  Catholic  Church,  the  Patroness  of  Art. 

art  galleries  at  South  Kensington.  Thus  has  Protestant 
England  been  compelled  to  acknowledge  the  superior  merit 
of  this  illustrious  man,  and  to  confess,  if  not  expressly,  at 
least  by  implication,  that  the  Catholic  Church,  whose  child 
he  was,  and  to  whose  generous  encouragement  he  owed 
his  chief  success,  has  been  in  painting,  as  we  have  seen 
she  has  been  in  other  departments,  a  true  Patroness  of 
Art. 

We  have  dealt  at  such  great  length  with  the  first  four 
branches  of  our  subject  that  we  should  extend  this  paper  to 
an  unwarrantable  length  were  we  to  enter  on  a  detailed 
account  of  the  various  transitions  of  architecture.  Indeed 
there  is  the  less  need  for  doing  so  as  this  is  a  department  of 
Art  with  which  most  of  our  readers  must  be  already  more 
or  less  intimately  acquainted.  We  shall,  therefore,  devote 
to  its  treatment  a  much  briefer  space  than  its  relative 
importance  would  seem  to  demand. 

During  the  first  four  centuries  after  the  dawn  of  Chris- 
tianity the  Church  was  unable,  because  of  her  persecuted 
condition,  to  give  architectural  expression  to  the  divine 
message  entrusted  to  her.  She  found  ample  employment  in 
defending  her  doctrines  against  the  false  principles  of 
paganism,  and  preserving  her  children  free  from  the  defile- 
ments of  a  corrupt  world.  But  no  sooner  had  she  escaped 
from  bondage,  and  washed  from  her  limbs  the  blood  and 
dust  that  persecution  had  left  upon  them,  than  she  deter- 
mined to  provide  herself  with  temples  worthy  of  her  divine 
mission  ;  and  for  this  purpose  she  appropriated  the  basilicas, 
which  had  been  hitherto  employed  in  the  service  of  paganism, 
and  converted  them  to  her  own  use.  These  were  long, 
quadrangular  buildings,  divided  into  three  or  five  aisles  by 
means  of  pillars,  and  provided  with  a  semicircular  apse  at 
one  end.  They  were,  therefore,  admirably  adapted  to  the 
service  of  the  faithful;  for,  while  immense  congregations 
could  be  accommodated  in  the  nave  and  aisles,  the  apse, 
which  was  visible  from  every  portion  of  the  vast  structure, 
became  a  fitting  place  for  the  altar.  Transepts  were  sub- 
sequently introduced,  for  the  twofold  purpose  of  admitting 
a  greater  number  of  worshippers  and  of  reducing  the  whole 


The  Catholic  Church,  the  Patroness  of  Art.         845 

building  to  the  form  of  a  cross.  Simultaneously  with  this 
development  of  the  old  Eoman  basilicas  there  arose  in 
Constantinople,  now  the  seat  of  imperial  dominion,  a 
style  known  as  the  Byzantine,  and  characterized  by  the 
cupola  as  its  peculiar  feature.  But  the  artistic  genius  of 
the  Church  is  ever  prolific  ;  and  so,  through  embelHshing  the 
basilicas  by  the  introduction  of  the  rounded  arch,  and  the 
addition  of  some  unimportant  features  of  the  Byzantine 
style,  she  produced  the  Komanesque,  which  under  various 
forms  continued  in  common  use  down  to  the  twelfth  cen- 
tury. The  renaissance  of  a  later  date  was  a  revival  of  many 
of  its  principles  ;  and  that  under  this,  its  most  developed 
form,  it  is  capable  of  almost  infinite  embellishment,  will  be 
manifest  at  once  by  a  glance  at  St.  Peter's  in  Kome.  Gibbon 
speaks  of  this  superb  structure  as  *'  the  most  glorious  edifice 
that  has  ever  been  applied  to  the  purposes  of  rehgion."  And 
Byron,  in  his  Childe  Harold,  apostrophizes  it  as  follows  : — 

"  But  lo  !  the  dome — the  vast  and  wondrous  dome  ! 
To  which  Diana's  marvel  was  a  cell ! 
Christ's  mighty  shrine  above  His  martyr's  tomb  ! 
I  have  beheld  the  Ephesian's  miracle  — 
Its  columns  strew  the  wilderness,  and  dwell 
The  hyena  and  the  jackal  in  their  shade. 
I  have  beheld  Sophia's  bright  roofs  swell 
Their  glittering  mass  in  the  sun  ;  and  have  surveyed 
Its  sanctuary,  the  while  the  usurping  Moslem  prayed. 


But  thou,  of  temples  old  or  altars  new, 

Standest  alone — with  nothing  like  to  thee — 

Worthiest  of  God  the  holy  and  the  true ! 

Since  Zion's  desolation,  when  that  He 

Forsook  his  former  city,  what  could  be, 

Of  earthy  structures,  in  His  honour  piled 

Of  a  sublimer  aspect  ?     Majesty, 

Power,  Glory,  Strength,  and  Beauty— all  are  aisled 

In  this  eternal  ark  of  worship  undefiled." 

But  though  this  style  has  decided  advantages,  because 
of  its  strength  and  solidity,  and  the  facilities  it  affords  for 
mural  decoration,  yet  to  most  minds  it  seems  less  suitable 
for  purposes  of  religious  worship  than  the  pointed  or  Gothic 
style  which  arose  in  the  twelfth  century.     The  chief  points 


846         The  Catholic  Church,  the  Patroness  of  Art. 

of  difference  between  Grecian  and  Gothic  architecture  are 
indicated  by  Cardinal  "Wiseman  as  follows  : — 

*'  The  architectures  of  Greece  and  Eome,  like  their  religion, 
kept  their  main  hnes  horizontal  or  parallel  to  the  earth,  and 
carefully  avoided  breaking  this  direction,  seeking  rather  its 
prolongation  than  any  striking  elevation.  The  Christian  archi- 
tecture threw  up  its  lines  so  as  to  bear  the  eye  towards  heaven  ; 
its  tall,  tapering,  and  clustering  pillars,  while  they  even  added 
apparent  to  real  height,  served  as  guides  and  conductors,  of  the 
sense,  to  the  fretted  roof,  and  prevented  the  recurrence  of  lines 
which  would  keep  its  direction  along  the  surface  of  the  earth. 
Nothing  could  more  strikingly  mark  the  contrast  between  the 
two  religious  systems.  The  minute  details  of  its  workmanship, 
the  fretting  and  carving  of  its  many  ornaments,  the  subdivision 
of  masses  into  smaller  portions,  are  all  in  admirable  accord  with 
the  mental  discipline  of  the  time  which  subtilized  and  divided 
every  matter  of  its  inquiry,  and  reduced  the  greatest  questions 
into  a  cluster  of  ever  ramifying  distinctions.  The  *  dim  religious 
light  that  passed  through  the  storied  window,  and  gave  a 
mysterious  awe  to  the  cavern-like  recesses  of  the  building, 
excellently  became  an  age  passionately  fond  of  mystic  lore  and 
the  dimmest  twilights  of  theological  learning.  Nothing  could 
be  more  characteristic,  nothing  more  expressive,  of  the  religious 
spirit  which  ruled  those  ages  than  the  architecture  which  in 
them  arose." 

Few,  therefore,  can  look  upon  a  Gothic  Church  without 
being  sensibly  struck  by  its  suitability  for  religious  worship. 
It  has  been  well  styled  by  a  modern  writer,  la  pensee  cretienne 
hatie,  the  architectural  expression  of  religious  thought ;  and,  if 
we  contemplate  the  spiritual  meaning  of  its  various  parts,  we 
shall  find  the  mysteries  of  time  and  eternity,  of  nature  and 
grace,  of  the  mutual  relations  of  God  and  man,  receiving 
eloquent  expression  in  this  grand  epic  of  stone. 

The  building  itself,^  constructed  arti  stically  of  innume- 
rable stones  drawn  from  the  bowels  of  the  earth — some 
sustaining  and  others  sustained,  some  fundamental  and 
others   towering   aloft  in  tapering   spire    and    transparent 


'  To  render  more  intelligible  many  allusions  in  tliis  essay,  it  may  be 
necessary  to  mention  that  it  was  originally  written  for  the  pmpose  of 
being  delivered  as  a  lecture  before  the  students  of  Maynooth,  and  that 
the  writer  had  before  his  mi'jd  in  this  paragraph  the  beautiful  new  Church 
attached  to  the  College. 


Whe  Catholic  Church,  the  Faironess  of  Art.         847 

lantern — are  they  not  symbolical  of  the  mystic  body  of  Christ, 
constituted  of  men,  who  by  nature  are  of  the  earth,  earthly, 
but  by  the  mysterious  operations  of  grace  are  raised  to 
occupy  various  positions  of  dignity  and  responsibility  in  the 
moral  edifice  of  the  Church  ?  The  great  western  window 
with  its  fantastic  tracery — which  Sir  Walter  Scott  in  one  of 
his  lighter  moods  would  describe  as  if 

"  Some  fairy's  hand 
Twixt  poplars  light  the  ozier  wand 
In  many  a  freakish  knot  had  twined, 
Then  framed  a  spell,  when  the  work  was  done, 
And  changed  the  willow  wreaths  to  stone," 

will  suggest  to  the  mind  of  the  contemplative  a  widely 
different  thought.  The  circle  with  its  variously-coloured 
lights,  filled  with  angels  and  prophets  and  apostles,  all 
converging  towards  the  centre,  where  the  Kedeemer  sits 
enthroned — what  is  it  but  a  symbol  of  eternity,  in  which  the 
hierarchy  of  the  intellectual  creation  surround  as  with  a  gar- 
land the  Divine  Person  of  the  Son  of  God,  deriving  strength 
and  stability  from  their  close  relations  with  Him.  The  storied 
windows  reveal  as  in  a  vision  the  most  instructive  inci- 
dents in  the  Saviour's  life,  and  ever  preach  in  silent 
eloquence  to  the  thoughtful  worshipper  beneath.  The 
richly  decorated  roof  unrolls  itself  above,  like  the  azure  vault 
of  heaven,  and  from  it  look  down  the  prophets  of  the  Old 
and  the  saints  of  the  New  Testament,  to  inspire  a  stronger 
faith,  to  excite  a  livelier  hope,  to  inflame  a  more  ardent 
charity,  in  all  who  come  beneath  their  influence.  From  the 
string-courses  on  the  walls  and  the  corbels  that  support  the 
pillars,  symbolic  figures,  suggestive  of  religious  thought, 
come  forth,  as  if  in  obedience  to  the  voice  of  the  Church,  who, 
speaking  through  those  present,  calls  upon  all  creation  to 
bless  the  name  of  the  Lord.  On  the  walls  around  are 
represented  the  chief  scenes  in  the  sacred  passion  of  the 
Eedeemer,  bringing  forcibly  before  the  mind  the  most  useful 
lessons,  the  most  edifying  examples,  the  most  appealing 
manifestations  of  love,  in  the  whole  life  of  Christ.  When 
in  unison  with   these   combining  influences   of  sculpture, 


848        The  Catholic  Church,  the  Patroness  of  Art. 

painting,  and  architecture,  the  grand  organ  peals  forth  its 
music,  and  the  choir  gives  sympathetic  expression  to  the 
subHme  poetry  of  the  Church — when  the  whole  edifice  from 
flour  to  ceiling  pulsates  with  a  wave  of  harmony  that  wafts 
the  soul  upon  its  bosom  to  the  limits  of  the  eternal  shore — 
few  can  fail  to  be  convinced  that  the  Catholic  Church  has 
made  Art  the  handmaid  of  religion,  and  one  of  her  most 
powerful  auxiliaries  in  the  great  work  of  saving  souls. 

No  wonder,  therefore,  that  the  Church  has  ever  been 
an  enthusiastic  Patroness  of  Art !  No  wonder  she  repels 
with  indignation  the  malignant  calumny  of  her  enemies 
that  she  has  always  been  opposed  to  the  progress  of 
civilization.  In  every  country  in  the  world  she  has  been 
the  pioneer  of  progress  and  the  teacher  of  civilization. 
Her  divine  mission  is  to  civilize  and  convert  the 
world,  and  for  the  purpose  of  achieving  this  object  she 
disdains  not  to  make  use  of  every  legitimate  means  within 
her  reach — the  productions  of  created  genius  as  well  as 
the  inspired  teaching  of  the  word  of  God;  and  there- 
fore she  promotes  the  study  of  both.  Such  is  the  manifest 
record  of  her  history  in  the  past,  and  shall  also  be  the 
guiding  principle  of  her  policy  in  the  future.  Her 
enemies  may  revile  and  calumniate  her ;  but  while  they 
shall  ever  remain  as  they  have  been,  unstable  as  water,  she 
will  continue  the  line  of  policy  she  has  hitherto  pursued, 
approving  herself  the  jealous  guardian  of  truth  and  rectitude 
in  the  study  of  science,  human  and  divine,  as  well  as  in  the 
cultivation  of  the  various  departments  of  Art. 

J.  J.  Clancy. 


[     849     ] 

Xiturgical  ©ueetione^^ 


DE   CONSECEATIONE   ECCLESIAE    CUM   ALTAEI. 

In  quadam  dioecesi  Episcopus  nova  cum  Ecclesia  altare 
maius  fixum,  ut  par  est,  consecravit.  Huius  vero  lapidis 
pars  media,  ubi  sepulcrmn  extabat  pro  recondendis  Eeliquiis, 
per  totum  erat  excavata,  sen  perforata  :  ita  ut  non  super 
mensa,  sed  super  eius  structura  fuerit  locata  Keliquiarum 
capsula.  Pars  vero  excavata  pro  operculo  inserviit  sepulcri, 
quod  coementi  ope  optime  clausum  fuit.  Aliquo  post  tem- 
pore Episcopalis  Caeremoniarum  magister,  qui  consecra- 
tionem  altaris  moderatus  erat,  gravibus  angi  coepit  scrupulis 
circa  validitatem  consecrationis,  non  solum  altaris,  sed  et 
ipsius  Ecclesiae.  Animadverterat  enim,  Ecclesiam  propter 
altare  consecrari,  ut  si  invalida  sit  huius,  illius  etiam  sit 
invalida  consecratio,  cum  Ecclesia  sine  uno  saltern  altari 
consecrari  non  possit.     Quaeritur  : 

1.  Quid  sit  altare  fixum,  et  quaenam  conditiones  sint 
necessariae,  ex  parte  lapidis,  ut  valide  consecretur  ? 

2.  Quid  de  effato,  Ecclesia  propter  altare,  et  quomodo 
intelligendum  ? 

3.  Quid  iudicandum  de  validitate  seu  altaris  seu  Eccle- 
siae consecrationis,  sicut  de  facto,  et  argumentandi  ratione 
Caeremoniarum  magistri,  ut  in  casu  ? 

SOLUTIO.^ 

1.  Quaeritur  primo  quid  pro  altari  fixe  sit  intelligendum, 
et  quaenam  necessario  conditiones  requirantur,  ut  valide 
consecrari  possit. 

Alt  aria,  uti  exploratum  est,  in  fixa  et  mobilia  seu  por- 
tatilia,  generatim  distinguuntur.     Nihilominus   tarn   fixum 

1  Wc  are  indebted  to  the  Ephemerides  Lituryicae  for  the  following 
interesting  dissertation  on  a  case  of  doubt  in  regard  to  the  consecration  of 
a  new  church. — Ed  I.  E.  R. 

2  Ex  dissertatione  Rev.  Dom.  Eduardi  Brettoni,  ex  alumnis  Almi 
Collegii  Capranicensis,  habita  in  Ecclesia  Presbyterorum  Missionis  prope 
Curiam  Innocentianam,  die  22  Maii,  1889  :  acta  Epitoma  per  R.  mum  Dom. 
Dom.  Philippura  M.  Canon.  Difava. 

VOL.  XII.  3  H 


850  Liturgical  Questions. 

quam  portatile  altare  duplici  sensu  potest  sumi.  Etenim 
lato  quodam  sensu,  recto  tamen,  fixum  dici  potest  altare 
simpliciter  ob  suam  constructionem,  quae  stabilis  est  et 
immobilis,  super  cuius  nihilominus  mensa  sacer  collocatur 
lapis,  qui  et  inde  possit  amoveri.  Eiusmodi  altaris  fixi 
significationeni  accepimus  ex  uno  ex  Decretis  S.  C.  Indul- 
gentiarum  d.  d.  26  Mart.  1867,  quod  declarat,  altare  praefata 
ratione  fixum  ita  esse  posse  privilegiatum,  ut  Indulgentia 
pro  altari,  alio  sensu  describendo  fixo  concessas,  lucrari 
valeat.  En  verba  decreti :  "  Sanctitas  sua  edixit  et  decla- 
ravit,  suf&cere  ad  constituendam  qualitatem  altaris  ^a:;^,  ut 
in  medio  altaris  stabilis  et  inamovibilis,  licet  non  consecrati 
lapis  consecratus  etiam  amovibilis  ponatur  (F.  et  Beer.,  S, 
B.  Congr.  d.  d.  SI  Aug.  1867,  n.  5386.")  Item,  sensu  minus 
proprio,  portatile  seu  mobile  dici  potest  altare,  quod  ligneam 
liabeat  mensam,  in  cuius  medio  sit  sacer  lapis,  uti  quandoque 
erigitur  in  Ecclesiis,  ratione  alicuius  solemnitatis,  puta 
Patroni,  qua  expleta,  destruitur  (F.  De  Herdt  Prax.  Sacr. 
Liturg.,-psi,Ts.  i.,  n.  176).  Animadvertas  tamen  velim,  altare, 
nuper  descripto  modo  fixum,  ex  parte  lapidis  eas  tantum 
exigere  conditiones,  quae  pro  altari  portatili  requiruntur. 

Proprio  verum  liturgicoque  sensu  altare  seu  fixum  seu 
portatile  satis  est  diversum.  Itaque  hoc  altero  sensu  altare 
fixum  dicitur  illud,  cuius  mensa  ex  uno  constans  lapide, 
integramque  immobiliter  tegens  superficiem,  adeo  unde- 
quaque  adhaeret  basi,  eique  coniungitur,  ut  quid  unum  cum 
ipsa  efformet.  Ita  Liturgici  auctores  communiter.  Scrip- 
tores  nihilominus  antiquiores,  fixa  describentes  altaria, 
de  integritate  lapidis  baud  explicite  verba  faciunt,  neces- 
sariam  tamen  aperte  retinent  mensae  cum  basi  coniunc- 
tionem,  quam  essentiale  dicunt  discrimen  constituere,  per 
quod  fixum  altare  a  portatili  differt.  Consuli  ad  rem 
poterunt  Giraldius  (lur.  Pontif.,  torn.  ii.,pag.  419),  Gatticus 
{De  usu  altar,  portat.,  cap.  i.,  n.  10,  xiii.),  Ferraris  {ad.  voc. 
Altare)  aliique  plures. 

Altare  autem  portatile  simplex  est  parvusque  generatim 
lapis  consecratus,  baud  immobiliter  basi  adhaerens,  qui  hue 
illuc  transferri  potest,  et  super  quamcumq^ue  locatur  mensam, 
ut  ibi  Bacrificium  fiat, 


Liturgical  Questions.  861 

Notionibus  generalibus  expositis  circa  altare  fixum,  licet 
connexionis  causa  quid  dicere  et  de  portatili  coacti  fuerimus, 
gradum  facimus,  prouti  petitio  inquirit,  ad  eas  assignandas 
conditiones,  quae  necessario  requiruntur  ex  parte  lapidis,  ut 
altare  fixum  possit  valide  consecrari. 

Prima  conditio,  quam  cetera  ipsa  petitio  supponere  vide- 
tur,  est  ut  materia  altaris  fixi  sit  omnino  ex  lapide.  Quidquid 
de  antiquitate  fuerit,  iuxta  praesentem  Ecclesiae  discip- 
linam,  quae  a  tempore  circiter  Silvestri  Papae  I  incepit, 
huiusmodi  materia  ad  validitatem  pertinet,  ut  si  ex  alia 
altare  consecretur,  nihil  fiat.  It  a  aperte  Eubrica  Missalis  : 
''Altare  lapideum  esse  debet  (tit.  xx.)"  Ita  cd^non  Altaria 
Agathensis  Concilii,  quem  Gratianus  refert  {Be  Consecr. 
Dist.  i.,  can.  31)  :  "  Alt  aria  si  non  fuerint  lapidea,  chris- 
matis  unctione  non  consecrentur."  Ita  omnes  Liturgici, 
ita  universalis  consuetudo.  Adeo  ut  proinde,  quaecumque 
alia  materies  sive  naturaliter  sive  arte  confecta,  licet  lapidis 
similitudinem  praeseferat,  quae  verus  non  sit  lapis,  inepta 
sit  pro  altari,  atque  invalide  consecretur.  Altera  conditio 
formam  respicit  ipsius  lapidis,  ut  nempe  rectangula  sit. 
Sane  seu  Missale  seu  Pontificale,  atque  reliqui  codices 
liturgici,  de  lateribus  verba  faciunt  cornibusque  altarium. 
Praeterea  altare  rotundae  vel  alterius  formae  confectum, 
adeo  a  constanti  universalique  consuetudine  discreparet,  ut 
potius  religiose  sensui  iniuriam  irrogaret,  et  tamquam 
aliquid  profani  iudicaretur  ab  omnibus.  Denique  impar 
omnino  eiusmodi  altare  esset,  ut  rite  fieri  in  eo  possent 
sacrae  unctiones,  quae  a  Pontificali  Romano  praescribuntur. 

Tertia  conditio  est,  ut  ita  mensa  immobiliter  adhaereat 
undequaque  inferiori  struct urae  :  ut,  sicuti  superius  diximus, 
rem  unam  cum  ea  constituat.  Hinc  est,  quod  mensae  a 
structura  inferiori  separatio,  altaris  execrationem  inducit. 
Quod  certo  constat  ex  iure,  ubi  legitur,  altare  execratum 
evadere  si  tabula  remota  fuerit  (Cap.  Quod.,  De  Consecr. 
Eccl.).  Item  patet  ex  decreto,  praeter  alia,  in  Senogallien. 
d.  d.  15  Maii,  1819,  n.  4562.  Super  qua  conditione  animad- 
vertendum  est,  structuram  qua  mensa  fulcitur,  seu  stipitem, 
ex  lapide  esse  debere ;  aut  saltem  necessum  est,  ut  latera 
seu  columellae,  quibus  mensa  sustentatur,  sint  ex  lapide, 


852  Liturgical  Questions. 

licet  ex  lateribus  esse  possit  interior  pars  structurae.  Haec 
omnia  constant  ex  decretis  S.  E.  Congregationis  20  Dec, 
1864,  n.  5338,  et  7  Aug.,  1875,  n.  5621,  quibus  inhaerens  cl. 
Martinucci  eadem  expresse  docet  (lib.  vii.,  cap.  xvii.,  n.  1). 
Et  ratio  patet,  quia  cum  de  fixis  agatur  altaribus,  stipes,  ut 
dictum  est,  quid  unum  cum  mensa  efformat :  altare  autem 
debet  esse  lapideum. 

Quarta  conditio  est,  ut  nisi  sepulcrulum  reliquiarum 
habeatur  vel  in  centro,  vel  in  anteriori,  aut  posteriori,  vel 
etiam  in  summitate  stipitis,  prout  docet  Pontificale  Eoma- 
num  {De  consecr.  altaris),  idem  Eeliquiarum  sepulcrulum 
esse  debet  effossum  in  ipso  lapide,  in  quo  recondendae  sunt, 
et  operculo  pariter  lapideo  claudendae  reliquiae. 

Alio  conditio  manet,  de  qua  disserendum  est  in  praesenti, 
utrum  ad  validitatem  vel  ad  solam  liceitatem  pertineat, 
estque  integritas  lapidis.  Equidem  in  antiquis  canonibus 
explicita  omnino  lex  de  lapide  integro  in  fixis  altaribus  non 
reperitur,  ita  ut  mensa  pluribus  constans  partibus,  arte 
tamen  inter  se  bene  coniunctis,  incapax  sit  iudicanda  con- 
secrationis.  Imo  cl.  Gatticus  diligentior  ea  super  re  scriptor 
eximius,  ingenue  fatetur,  neque  banc  legem  se  reperisse  pro 
altaribus  mobilibus,  pro  quibus  fortior  profecto  ratio  militat, 
neque  ullum  decretum  explicitum  se  legisse.  Nihilominus 
pro  his  integritatem  sustinet,  asserens  inutilem  fuisse  hoc  de 
negotio  legem,  cum  faveat  integritati  universalis  consuetudo. 
Quidquid  sit  ceterum  de  mobilibus,  ad  fixa  quod  spectat  altaria 
constat  ne,  debere,  ea  esse  ex  uno  integroque  lapide  confecta? 
Negative  respondemus,  quin  imo  certum  est  oppositum,  si  de 
validitate  quaestio  sit.  Re  vera,  si  de  antiquitate  loquamur 
indubium  est  altaria  ex  uno  generatim  fuisse  lapide  facta, 
quod  una  vel  plures  columnae  sustentabant,  ut  cl.  Martene 
refert.  Sed  et  ipse  de  altari  loquitur,  quod  erat  in  maiori 
Turonensi  Monasterio  extructum,  et  a  S.  Martino  conse- 
cratum  dicitur,  cuius  mensa  ex  quatuor  constabat  lapidibus 
inter  se  coniunctis.  Auctores  autem  ita  de  fixis  loquuntur 
altaribus,  ut  ostendant,  ea  ex  pluribus  quoque  lapidibus  esse 
posse.  Ita  Giraldius  {lur.  Pontif.,  tom.  ii.,  pag.  417)  ait : 
Eadem  tabula,  vel  saltern  mox  dicta  ara,  rectius  consistit 
hi  unico   lapide,   quam  divisa  in  plures.     Ex   quo   patet^ 


Liturgical  Questions.  853 

lapidem  esse  posse  non  integrum,  quamvis  integer  sit  prae- 
ferendus.  Item  Gatticus  dicit,  caeremoniarum  magistros 
exigere  communiter  in  altaribus  fixis  lapidem  unum  integ- 
rum, sed  statim  addit  :  "  quantum  locorum  opportunitas 
patitur  (cap.  ii.,  n.  18)."  Pontificale  Komanum  loquitur 
quidem  de  lapide,  tabula,  ara,  etc.,  quae  verba  singulariter 
posit  a  unum  integrumque  lapidem  significare  videntur, 
Nihilominus  nemo  nescit,  plures  lapides  simul  coemento, 
vel  mastice,  coniunctos  pro  uno  atque  integro  lapide  merito 
haberi.  Neque  aliquid  in  oppositum  e  symbolica  altaris 
significatione  eruitur,  quae  Christum  respicit.  Simon  Thes- 
salonicensis  scribit :  "E  lapide  est  alt  are,  quia  Christum 
refert,  qui  etiam  petra  nominatur  .  .  .  caput  anguli,  et 
lapis  angularis  (lib.  3,  De  templo.)"  Idque  divus  Thomas 
explicat  (p.  3,  q.  83),  estque  conforme  verbis  Apostoli  : 
"petra  autem  erat  Christus  {Ad  Corinth,  i.,  cap.  x.,  v.  4.)" 
Verum,  licet  huiusmodi  symbolismi  ratio  magni  sit  facienda, 
ut  lapis  integer  adhibeatur,  iuxta  universalem  consuetu- 
dinem,  non  est  nihilominus,  cur  dicendum  sit  banc  deficere 
rationem  si  lapis  ex  pluribus  constet  partibus,  cum  sint  apte 
solideque  inter  se  coniunctae. 

Si  denique  positivam  legem  inspiciamus,  quaedam  profecto 
decreta  se  nobis  exhibent,  quae  integritatem  exigunt.  Ita 
S.  K.  C.  d.  17  lun.,  1843  {Deer.  4966)  decernit,  niensam  ex 
sex  parvis  lapidihus  ad  formam  unius  unitis,  quam  lignea 
corona  per  gyrum  devincit  et  cum  stipite  coniungit,  et  super 
qua  sacri  olei  unctiones  fuere  peractae,  non  esse  conse- 
cratam  nee  consecrandam ;  praescribitque  simul,  ut  eadem 
mensa  ex  integro  lapide  constituatur .  Sed  animadvertendum, 
agi  in  casu  de  mensa,  quae  non  solum  integritate  caret,  sed 
lignea  circumdata  fuit  corona,  per  quam  mensa  stipiti 
coniungebatur,  et  super  qua  unctiones  fuere  peractae  :  quae 
omnia  profecto  invalidam  consecrationem  reddunt.  Alterum 
quoque  recentius  legimus  decretum  d.  d.  29  Aug.,  1885, 
quod  respicit  pariter  mensam,  cui  tamquam  corona,  zona 
marmorea  ohducitur  per  ferri  la^ninas  coniuncta  ipsi  lapidi, 
ita  ut  mensa  non  constet  unico  lapide.  Et  S.  R.  C.  respondet, 
altare  huiusmodi,  tamquam  fixum  non  esse  rite  constructum, 
cum  tota  mensa  ex  uno  et  integro  lapide  cons  tare  debeat. 


854  Liturgical  Questions. 

Ex  quo  utroque  decreto  nil  eruitur  contra  validitatem  conse- 
crationis  mensae,  quae  ex  pluribus  constat  lapidibus ;  iure 
tarn  en  merito  instruimur,  id  esse  contra  legis  praescriptum. 
CI.  De  Herdt  docet,  tabulam  superiorem  altaris  fixi  debere 
constare  ex  uno  et  hitegro  lapide,  et  non  pluribus  lapidibus 
adformam  unius  unitis,  et  quidem,  ut  videtur  dicendum, 
de  validitate  consecratio7iis  {Prax.  S.  Liturg.,  pars,  i.,  n.  176). 
Sed  eius  incertitudo  nulla  est,  quia  decreto  innititur  17 
lun.,  1843,  quod  superius  retulimus  et  explicavimus. 
Ceterum  et  ipse  admittit,  lapidem  etiam  enormiter  fractum 
iam  consecratum  posse  firmiter  coementari  iterumque  ut 
execratum  consecrari.  Si  ergo  valida  est  haec  consecratio 
post  execrationem,  valida  etiam  erit,  si  prima  vice,  postquam 
mastice  solide  coniuncti  lapides  fuerint  ad  forman  unius, 
rite  consecrentur. 

Denique  impraesenti  omnis  adimitur  dubitandi  ratio, 
cum  explicitum  habeamus  decretum  d.  d.  20  Martii,  1869, 
n.  5437,  quo  docemur,  altare  enormiter  fractum  si  firmiter 
coementatum,  valide  consecrari  posse,  et  dubium  de  validi- 
tate esse  nullum.  Concludimus  ergo,  praeter  quatuor 
praefatas  conditiones,  quae  requiruntur,  banc  ultimam, 
integritatem  scilicet  lapidis  unius,  ad  validitatem  non 
requiri,  sed  licitum  solummodo  respicere. 

2.  Altera  petitio  quaerit  quid  dicendum  de  effato : 
Ecclesia  propter  altare,  et  quo  sensu  intelligendum  sit. 

Respondemus,  nil  eo  sapientius,  quod  tradidit  antiquitas, 
retinemus  impraesentia,  et  cui  praxis  universalis  mire 
respondet.  Hinc  potuit  quidem  extare,  immo  et  certe 
extitit  in  primis  Ecclesiae  saeculis,  si  materialiter  loquamur, 
altare  sine  Ecclesia;  sed  nusquam  legimus  Ecclesiam 
sine  altari  extitisse.  Institui  quaestio  potest,  utrum 
revera  in  prima  antiquitate  unum  tantum  erigendi  mos 
fuerit  in  Ecclesiis  altare,  vel  plura ;  sed  sine  ullo  altari  nulla 
unquam  extitit,  neque  extare  potest  Ecclesia,  quippe  quae 
neque  mereretur  Ecclesiae  nomen. 

Ecclesia  enim  graeca  quidem  vox  est,  quae  adunatio 
latine  [significat ;  sed  usus  postea  obtinuit,  ut  pro  ea  locus 
ille  intelligeretur,  in  quern  peculiariter  conveniunt  fideles, 
ut  cultum  publicum  Deo  exhibeant.     Maximus  autem  cultus 


Liturgical  Questions.  855 

actus,  atque  essentialis,  et  ad  quern  ceteri  ordinantur,  Sacri- 
ficium  est,  quod  Deo  unice  offertur,  ut  supremam  eius 
dominationem  agnoscamus,  nostramque  ab  eo  omnimodam 
dependentiam.  Merito  itaque  Sacrificium  in  Ecclesia 
offertur,  quae  ad  cultum  exclusive  destinatur.  lam  vero 
ubi  Sacrificium,  nisi  super  altare?  Christiana  enim  lege 
nonnisi  super  eo  illud  fieri  permittimur.  Idque  eo  magis, 
quod  novi  foederis  Sacrificium  antiquis  excellit,  quorum 
complementum  est  atque  perfectio ;  in  illis  enim  nonnisi 
umbra,  in  nostro,  autem  absoluta  Veritas.  Hinc  Sacrificium 
nostrum  iure  merit oque  appellatur  Sacrificium  altaris. 

Est  itaque  altare,  quod  perfectius  haberi  in  Ecclesia 
potest,  ad  quod  Ecclesia  eadem  ordinatur,  et  propter  quod 
construitur,  atque  existit,  ut  si  ab  altare  abstrahas  nil  sit 
Ecclesia.  Hinc  sapientissima  ordinatio,  ut  nulla  unquam 
dedicetur  seu  consecretur  Ecclesia,  quin  cum  ea  aliquod 
consecretur  altare.  Hinc  altare  istud  esse  fixum  debet, 
sicque  stabilitatis  Ecclesiae  fiat  particeps,  et  nunquam  ista 
sine  altare,  neque  ad  tempus,  maneat.  Hinc  ipsum  altare, 
maius,  quod  cum  Ecclesia  consecrandum  decernitur,  tam- 
quam  reliquis,  quae  esse  in  ilia  possunt,  excellentius.  Haec 
autem  ex  pluribus  S.  R.  Congregationis  decretis  explicite 
patescunt.  Nil  ergo  magis  aequum  ac  sapiens  iudicandum 
quam  praedictum  effatum  :  Ecclesia  propter  altare. 

At  qaonam  effatum  istud  sensu  intelligendum  est  ?  Nil 
hac  responsione  facilius  post  ea  quae  nuper  exposuimus : 
sensus  nempe  est,  ut,  quamvis  Ecclesia  ab  altari,  uti  patet, 
nimis  differat,  nihilominus  idea  illius  vix  istius  ideam  valeat 
excludere,  quia  sine  altari  non  datur  Ecclesia.  Ecclesia 
enim  fit  ad  Sacrificium ;  cumque  hoc  nonnisi  super  altari 
offerri  possit,  ideo  Ecclesia  propter  altare  dicitur.  Est  ergo 
altare,  finis  Ecclesiae,  ad  quod  talem  intimam  simulque 
necessariam  dicit  relationem,  ut  sine  hoc  eam  consistere 
prorsus  inutile  sit. 

Nihilominus  animadvertendum,  sicuti  altare  ab  Ecclesia 
differt,  ita  altaris  consecrationem  essentialiter  ab  Ecclesiae 
consecratione  differre.  Idque  perspicuum  est  ex  ritibus, 
quos  Pontificale  Romanum  praescribit.  Separatim  namque 
parietes    Ecclesiae    forinsecus    benedicuntur,    sicuti    iuxta 


856  Liturgical  Questions. 

fundamentum  ipsorum  et  in  media  parte,  intrinsecus.  Item 
alii  ritus  perficiuntur  super  pavimentum  atqiie  in  aliis  Eccle- 
siae  partibus.  Omnes  autem  hos  ritus  comitantur  peculiares 
orationes ;  quae  cuncta  distincta  omnino  sunt,  ac  diversa  ab 
iis,  quae  pro  altaris  consecratione  fiunt,  uti  in  ipso  Pontificali 
videre  est.  Licet  ergo  indubitanter  tenendum  sit,  Ecclesiam 
esse  propter  altare,  nihilominus,  alterum  ab  altero  essen- 
tialiter  distingui,  pariter  exploratum  est.  Proinde,  uti  iam 
diximus,  consecratione  altaris  vix  habet  aliquid  communis 
cum  consecratione  Ecclesiae,  quamvis  utriusque  consecra- 
tionis  ritus,  distincte  tamen,  quandoque  alternentur.  Hinc 
altaris  consecratio  ab  Ecclesiae  consecratione  non  dependet. 

3.  Demum  inquirit  casus,  quid  sit  iudicandum  de  validi- 
tate  altaris  Ecclesiaeque  consecrationis,  de  facti  serie,  et  de 
argumentandi  ratione  Caeremoniarum  magistri. 

Inficiandum  non  est,  ad  Ecclesiae  quod  attinet  consecra- 
tionem,  rite  banc  fuisse  peractam,  ut  sapponit  casus :  ergo 
merito  iudicandum,  manere  omnino  consecratam  Ecclesiam. 
Neque  obstat,  si  altare  invalide  consecratum  fuisse  censea- 
tur.  Nam,  uti  ex  principiis  in  secunda  responsione  positis 
liquido  profluit,  invalida  consecratio  altaris  nil  influit  in 
consecrationem  Ecclesiae,  cum  duo  sint  actus  inter  se 
distincti,  licet  alter  ad  alterum  ordinatus.  Neque  obstare 
possunt  aliqui  ritus,  qui  in  commune  fiunt  super  altare  et 
Ecclesiam,  quia,  iis  baud  obstantibus,  consecratio  unius 
non  est  consecratio  alterius.  S.  E.  Congregatio  in  una 
Fanensi  expetita  fuit,  quid  de  Ecclesiae  consecratione  senti- 
endum,  quando  execratum  est  altare,  cum  Ecclesia  sine 
altari  nequeat  consecrari.  Porro  Sacrum  Tribunal  respondit 
simpliciter:  Ecclesiam  fuisse  rite  consecratam  (17  lun.,  1843, 
ad  2).  Ergo,  inferimus,  Ecclesia  etiam  sine  altari  conse- 
crato,  valide  manere  consecrata  potest.  Addas  velim,  omnes 
in  casu  praescriptos  adbibitos  fuisse  ritus  pro  consecratione 
altaris,  ut  per  accidens  censendum  sit,  si  in  hypothesi 
consecratum  valide  non  fuit.  Stat  ergo  valida  consecratio 
Ecclesiae,  licet  cum  invalida  consecratione  altaris. 

At  dicendum  ne,  huiusmodi  consecrationem  altaris  fuisse 
certo  invalidam  ?  Ita  quidem  iudicandum  esse  videtur,  quia 
lapis  mensam  constituens  revera  abruptus  est.     Neque  dicas 


Correspondence.  857 

coementatum  ilium  esse,  at  que  unum  totum  efformare  oper- 
culum cum  alia  principaliori  altaris  parte.  Quia  coniunctio 
eiusmodi  baud  talis  est,  ut  quid  unum  integrumque  consti- 
tuat  lapidem ;  cum  fieri  tantum  soleat  in  superior!  parte  et 
ad  instar  operculi,  non  vero  ut  ex  duabus  partibus  unus  fiat 
lapis,  quemadmodum  evenit,  quando  duae  vel  plures  lapidis 
partes  solido  stabilique  coemento,  vel  potius  mastice,  simul 
coniunguntur,  ut  unus  fiat.  Cum  itaque  lapis  iste  integer 
non  sit  neque  ita  coniunctae  partes,  ut  unus  evaserit,  ineptus 
ille  videtur  pro  consecratione.  Esse  autem  eiusmodi  con- 
secrationem  prorsus  illicitam,  nee  innuere  necessum  est, 
cum  ex  superius  expositis  satis  lex  pateat,  quae  unum 
integrumque  lapidem  exigit.  Ceterum,  dubia  ad  minus  ilia 
altaris  consecratio  est,  proindeque  super  eum  Sacrificium 
non  potest  fieri ;  sed  prius  competens  consulenda  est  aucto- 
ritas,  ut  iudicio  suo  quid  agendum  sit  notum  faciat. 

Denique  vituperanda  nimis  agendi  ratio  magistri  Caere- 
moniarum,  cui  ante  functionem  studio  incumbendum  erat, 
ut  omnia  rite  postea  peragerentur,  quae  Pontificale  Eoma- 
num  in  casu  praescribit.  Ex  studio  enim ;  rationabili , 
profecto,  subortum  fuisset  illi  dubium,  utrum  lapidis  in 
media  parte  perforati  valida  esset  consecratio.  Ceterum  de 
tali  non  licita  consecratione,  quam  Episcopus  operatus  est, 
Caeremoniarum  magister  qua  ratione  possit  excusari  vix 
capimus. 


(torreeponbence. 


HISTORY   OF   THE   CEREMONIAL   OF   HOLY  MASS. 

"  Since  the  appearance  of  the  above  article  in  the  July  number 
of  the  I.  E.  Record,  two  priests  have  kindly  sent  me  the  following 
corrections  : — 

*' Father  Dallow,  of  Upton,  near  Birkenhead,  England, 
writes : — 

*"  I  read  your  article  in  current  I.  E.  Record  with  deepest 


858  Correspondence. 

interest;  but  may  I  point  out  what  seems  to  be  two  slight 
errors  ? 

"  '  1.  You  say  that  (in  canon  of  mass)  Thaddeus  is  the  same 
as  Timothy.  Now  I  find  in  every  book  I've  consulted  that 
Thaddeus  is  the  same  as  St.  Jude.  In  Eoman  martyrology  it 
puts  — "Thadeus  qui  vocatur  Judas."  In  St.  Matt.  x.  3,  Thaddeus 
is  placed  among  the  twelve  Apostles. 

'' '  2.  By  decree  of  Sac.  Rit.  Congregatio.,  4452,  it  is  fixed  that 
the  John  spoken  of  first  in  second  list,  after  elevation,  is  John  the 
Baptist,  and  that  the  head  is  to  be  therefore  bowed  at  that  name 
at  every  mass,  in  commemoration  of  the  Baptist. 

"  '  On  the  famous  Ardagh  chalice  in  Royal  Irish  Academy, 
Dublin,  comes  the  name  tath^eus  among  names  of  Apostles.' 

"  Father  FitzPatrick,  writing  from  St.  Thomas's  Seminary, 
Merrion  Park,  Bamsay  Co.,  Minnesota,  says  :  — 

"  *  Many  thanks  for  your  article  "  History  of  the  Ceremonial  of 
Holy  Mass,"  begun  in  the  July  number  of  the  I.  E.  Record.  Such 
papers,  and  the  articles  that  appeared  about  two  years  ago,  on 
the  Ceremonies  of  Mass^  in  the  same  admirable  periodical,  must 
ever  prove  of  fascinating  interest— because  so  living,  so  spiritual, 
to  alX  but  especially  to  those  of  the  faith. 

*' '  To  record  an  instance  of  the  good  effects  of  such  writings. 
Some  years  ago  a  non-Catholic  lady  of  St.  Louis,  Mo.,  happened 
to  pick  up  the  Ceremonies  of  Loio  Mass,  by  Father  Hughes.  She 
read,  and  read,  and  read,  always  with  growing  curiosity,  always 
with  more  intensely  devout  interest ;  and  when,  after  rightly 
discerning  that  there  must  be  something  there  -something 
beneath  and  behind  those  many  minute  rubrical  direcLions — a 
truth,  a  dogma,  a  reality — she  received  and  corresponded  with  the 
grace  of  faith — faith  in  the  Real  Presence,  mysterium  Fldei.  She 
at  once  sought  ample  religious  instruction,  and  became  a 
Catholic. 

"'And  now  be  pleased  to  suffer  a  few  animadversions  on 
parts  of  your  article. 

"  '  Page  604.  "  Simon,  and  Thaddeus  or  Timothy,''  should  read 
*'  Simon,  and  Thaddeus  or  Jude." 

"  '  Page  605.  The  St.  John  in  the  second  list  is  the  Holy 
Baptist  and  Precursor.  {Vide  Deer.  S.R.C.,  27  Mar.,  1824,, apud 
Decreta  Authentica,  page  145.  See  also  O'Brien's  Hist,  of  the 
Mass.) 

li  I  There  need  be  no  surprise  that  the  proto-martyr  of  the 
New  Law  should  immediately  follow  St.  John,  the  last  martyr  of 
the  Old  Law,  and  that  the  two  post-ascension  Apostles,  Mathias 
and  Barnabas,  should  continue  the  enumeration. 

1  By  Rev.  Daniel  O'Loan. 


Correspondence.  859 

"  *  Mark  well,  also,  that  Anastasia  was  a  ividotv -ma.Yiyr,  her 
name  following  the  names  of  the  four  virgin-ma.Ytyrs.  (See  Dom 
Queranger's  LiUirgical  Year,  second  mass  on  Christmas  Day,  and 
O'Brien's  Hist,  of  the  Mass.)  The  Anastasia  closing  the  second  list 
could  not  have  been  the  earlier  or  elder  saint  Anastasia  who 
suffered  under  Valerian,  or,  it  may  be,  under  Nero.  Many  writers, 
however,  rank  all  these  five  martyrs  as  virgins  ;  but  erroneously, 
in  my  judgment. 

'  *  '  The  error  of  Berengarius  was  practically  impanation  or 
companation ;  hence  no  transuhstajitiation.  He  held  that  Christ 
was  in  no  manner  present  upon  the  ivords  of  consecration  being 
jyronowiced,  "viverhorum;"  but  sometime  after,  and  then  by  annex- 
ing Himself  to  the  oblata.  With  the  condemnation  of  his  errors 
on  the  Holy  Eucharist,  came  the  enjoined,  solemn,  and  demon- 
strative liturgical  act,  which  note  may  be  termed  the  major 
elevation,  in  contradistinction  to  the  simultaneous  raising  of 
host  and  chalice,  which  noio  may  be  called  the  minor  elevation. 
This  latter  still  continues  in  the  Latin  Church  (though  your 
words  seem  to  imply  the  contrary),  and  in  some  countries  is 
announced  by  the  sanctuary  bell  or  gong.  It  was  once  the  only 
elevation  at  mass — the  elevation  without  any  additional  cere- 
mony. The  Good  Friday  liturgy,  so  ancient,  points  to  this.  The 
prescribing  of  the  elevation  (and  intermediate  genuflection)  right 
upon  the  consecration,  strikingly  represents  or  exemplifies  the 
maxim,  Lex  credendi,  Lex  orandi,  and  in  worship  as  well  as  in 
teaching  stamped  out  the  error  condemned.  The  primitive 
elevation  expresses  the  Latreutical  end  of  the  Holy  Sacrifice, 
omnis  honor  et  gloria,  very  appropriately.  Our  major  elevation 
needed  no  introduction  into  the  Oriental  liturgies,  as  the  error  it 
condemns  was  ^.Western  one,  and  was  not  even  partially  broached 
or  bruited  in  the  Orient.  Oriental  liturgies,  however,  have  also  a 
very  solemn  and  highly  demonstrative  elevation  just  before  the 
Communion.     (See  O'Brien's  History  of  the  Mass.)' 

"Many  readers  of  the  I.  E.  Eecokd  will  be  glad,  as  I  am,  to 
have  these  things  brought  to  their  knowledge  or  their  recollec- 
tion, and  will  feel  grateful,  as  I  most  humbly  do,  to  these  two 
good  priests  for  having  done  so. 

"  E.  0' Kennedy." 


[    860    i 

Document 


decisions  of  the   s.  penitentiaey  on  the   absolution 
of  cases  and  censures  reserved  to  the  holy  see. 

Eminentissime  Domine, 
Post  decretum  S.  Cong.  K.  et  U.  Inquisitionis  absolu- 
tionem  a  casibus  Eom.  Pontifici  spectans,  datum  sub  die 
23  Junii  1886,  sequentia  dubia  occurrunt  mihi  missionnario, 
quorum  nequidem  in  recentioribus  auctoribus  solutionem 
reperire  mihi  possibile  est ;  quapropter  banc  ab  Eminentia 
Vestra  soUicite  imploro. 

I.  Decreti  responsio  ad  I"  quae  sic  se  habet :  '' Attenta 
praxi  S.  Poenitentiariae,  praesertim  ab  edita  Constitutione 
Apostolica  s.  m.  Pii  IX  quae  incipit  Apostolicae  Sedis, 
negative,"  non  videtur  respicere  casus  specialiter  reservatos 
Sum.  Pontifici  sine  censura ;  siquidem  de  his  non  agitur  in 
Constitutione  Apostolicae  Sedis.  Numquid  ergo  integra 
manet  vetus  doctrina  Theologorum  dicentium  de  his 
absolvere  posse  episcopos  vel  eorum  delegatos,  vel,  ut  vult 
Castropalao,  simpHcem  sacerdotem,  quando  poenitens 
Komam  nequit  petere,  quin  scribere  necesse  sit  ? 

II.  Quando  indultum  quinquennale  Episcopi  habent  a 
S.  Congregatione  de  Propaganda  Fide,  complectens  14 
numeros  et  n°  10"  concedens  facultatem  absolvendi  ab 
omnibus  casibus  etiam  speciahter  reservatis  E.  P.,  excepto 
casu  absolventis  compHcem,  numquid  illam  possunt  delegare 
in  Galha  et  in  Europa  pro  casu  saltem  particulari  ?  ita  ut 
non  necessarium  sit  ut  poenitens  ad  eat  episcopum  ipsum, 
quamvis  in  n°  12"^  indulti  sic  haec  clausula:  " Communicandi 
has  facultates  in  totum  vel  in  partem  prout  opus  esse  secun- 
dum ejus  conscientiam  judicaverit,  sacerdotibus  idoneis  in 
conversione  animarum  laborantibus  in  locis  tantum  ubi 
prohibetur  exercitium  catholicae  religionis  ?  " 

III.  Posito  quod  negative  respondeatur,  quid  si  poenitenti 
impossibile  sit  adire  Episcopum  tale  indultum  habentem  ? 

IV.  Quando  sedes  episcopalis  vacat,  numquid  Vicarius 
capitularis  potest  communicare  facultates  quinquennales 
Episcopo  amoto  vel  defuncto  concessas  per  indultum  S. 
Poenitentiariae  vel  Congregationis  de  Propaganda  Eide  ? 


Dociime7it.  861 

V.  Certe  hodie  Integra  viget  facultas  a  Tridentino  con- 
cessa  Episcopis  absolvendi  a  simpliciter  reservatis  occultis, 
sed  quaeritur  utrum  tale  decretum  attingat  casus  simpli- 
citer reservatos  eodem  modo  ac  specialiter  reservatos  Sum. 
Pontifici? 

VI.  Quando  missionario  occurrit  poenitens  censuris  inno- 
datus  et  transiens  obiter,  ita  ut  missionarius  non  possit 
iterum  poenitentem  videre,  numquid  sufficit,  posito  casu 
urgentiori  absolutionis,  exigere  a  poenitente  promissionem 
scribendi,  tacito  si  vult  nomine,  ad  S.  Poenitentiariam 
intra  mensem,  et  standi  illius  mandatis,  quin  confessa- 
rius  ipse  scribat  ? 

VII.  Utrum,  tuta  conscientia,  docetur  et  in  praxim 
deducitur,  ut  quidam  volunt,  propter  hodiernum  periculum 
ne  aperiantur  epistolae  a  pot  est  ate  civili,  non  requiri  ut 
epistola  ad  Summum  Pontificem  dirigatur  in  casibus  urgen- 
tiori bus,  vel  quando  adiri  nequit  Papa  ? 

VIII.  Posito  quod  non  requiratur  epistola  ad  Summum 
Pontificem,  numquid  requiratur  epistola  directa  ad  Epis- 
copum,  stante  hoc  generali  periculo,  praesertim  quando 
agitur  de  absolutione  complicis,  quae  etiam  perfidiose 
detecta  et  revelata  scandalum  generare  potest  ? 

Horum  dubiorum  solutionem  ab  Eminentia  Vestra  fidu- 
cialiter  expectans  et  Ejus  sacram  purpuram  exosculans, 

Illius,  humillimum  et  addictissimum  servum  me  fateor. 

A. 

Sacra  Poenitentiaria,  mature  consideratis  expositis,  ad 
proposita  dubia  respondet  : 

Ad  I"".  Negative. 

Ad  II"',  III"",  et  I V"".  Orator  consulat  Episcopum,  et,  qua- 
terms  opus  sit,  idem  Episcopus  recurrat  ad  Sacram  Supremam 
Congregationem^  universalis  Inquisitionis. 

Ad  V"".  Affirmative,  nisi  casus  sint  occulti. 

Ad  VI™.  Affirmative. 

Ad  VII"".  Negative,  cum  inprecibus  nomina  et  cognomina 
sint  supprimenda. 

Ad  VI 11"".  Provisum  in  VIP. 

Datum  Eomae,  in  Sacra  Poenitentiaria,  die  7  Novem- 
bris,  1888, 


[     862    J 

IRoticee  of  Boofte* 


PONTIFICALE     EOMANUM     SUMMOEUM     PONTIFICUM    JuSSU 

Editum  a  Benedicto  XIV.   et  Leone  XIII.  Pont. 

Max.  Eecognitum  et  Castigatum.     Editio  prima  post 

Typicam.     (Sine  Cantu)  :  Pustet,  Katisbonae.     1891. 

The  eminent  printing  firm  of  Pustet  deserves  well  of  the 
clergy  everywhere  for  the  zeal  they  have  shown  in  supplying 
beautiful  reprints  of  the  Church  manuals  in  so  many  departments 
of  ecclesiastical  study.  Amongst  the  latest  publications  of  the 
Pustet  press  is  a  Eoman  Pontifical,  without  musical  notation, 
complete  in  one  large  octavo  volume. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  paper  and  type  are  good ;  and  it 
must  be  for  the  reader — more  particularly  for  the  bishop  when 
using  the  pontifical  at  a  ceremony — a  great  convenience  to  have  the 
plain  text  before  him,  and  thus  be  relieved  from  the  embarrass- 
ment of  trying  to  connect  the  syllables  of  each  word  when  dis- 
jointed and  spread  out  to  suit  the  musical  notes. 

The  Substitute  of  the  Sacred  Congregation  testifies  that  this 
issue  has  been  compared  jwith  the  typical  edition,  and  exactly 
corresponds  with  it.  This  addition  is  also  enriched  with  an 
appendix  containing  in  extenso  the  dedication  of  a  church  in 
which  are  many  altars  for  consecration,  also  the  form  of 
consecrating  several  altars  at  the  same  time,  but  as  a  distinct 
ceremony  from  the  consecration  of  the  church.  The  price  of  the 
book  is  4  marks  80  c. 

Preces     ante     et     post     Missam.    Accedunt    Hymni, 

LiTANIAE       ALIAEQUE      PrECES      IN      FREQUENTIORIBUS 

puBLicis    suppLicATiONiBus    usiTATAE  :  Pustet,  Katis- 
bonae.     1891. 

This  will  be  found  to  be  a  useful  book  in  every  sacristy.  In 
addition  to  the  Preces  ante  et  loost  Missam ,  as  found  in  the 
Missal,  it  contains  the  hymns,  litanies,  and  prayers  which  are  in 
use  at  the  ordinary  public  devotions  in  church.  For  instance,  it 
has  the  litanies  and  prayers  for  the  Quarant  'Ore,  the  prayers 
appropriate  to  different  confraternity  meetings,  and,  of  course,  the 
Benediction  service.     The  rubrics  for  each  function  are  given  in 


Notices  of  Books.  863 

full.  I  notice  that  in  the  rubric  for  Benediction  it  is  laid  down 
that  the  deacon  is  to  place  the  Monstrance  in  the  hands  of  the 
celebrant,  who  receives  it  kneeling.  If  this  is  correct,  our  common 
practice  is  at  fault.  But  the  priest  himself  places  the  Monstrance 
on  the  altar.  I  note,  moreover,  that  according  to  this  rubric,  the 
deacon  does  not,  after  Benediction,  descend  the  steps  at  the  same 
time  with  the  celebrant  and  sub-deacon,  but  remains  on  the 
predella  to  replace  the  Blessed  Sacrament  in  the  tabernacle. 
I  suppose  there  is  no  doubt  that,  as  laid  down  in  this  rubric  also, 
the  humeral  veil  should  not  be  removed  from  the  shoulders  of 
the  celebrant  when  genuflecting  on  the  predella,  but  only  when 
he  has  come  down  in  'planum.  Here  is  the  rubric  as  given  in 
this  book: — "  Cantatis  orationibus,  sacerdos  in  infimo  gradu 
genuflexus  accipit  velum  humerale.  Interim  diaconus  ad  altare 
ascendit  et  ostensorium  e  throno  depromptum  tradit  in  manus 
celebrantis  in  supremo  altaris  gradu  cum  subdiacono  genuflexi :  et 
celebrans  surgens  et  vertens  se  ad  populum  dat  benedictionem, 
elevantibus  ministris  sacris  genuflexis  fimbrias  pluvialis.  Data 
benedictione  celebrans  collocat  ostensorium  super  altari,  et  facta 
genuflexione,  descendit  cum  subdiacono  in  planum ;  ac  amoto 
velo  ab  humeris  sacerdotis,  in  infimo  altaris  gradu  genuflexi 
manent,  donee  diaconus  reposuerit  SS.  Sacramentum  in  taber- 
naculo." 

ExPLANATio  Critica  Editionis  Breviarii  Komani  quae 
A  Sacra  Congregatione  uti  Typica  Declarata 
EST.  studio  et  opera  G.  Scbolier,  C.SS.K.  :  Pustet, 
Katisbonae.     1891. 

This  is  a  very  learned  book,  and  one  full  of  interest  for  those 
who  have  turned  their  attention  to  the  history  and  development 
of  the  Eoman  Breviary. 

In  an  introduction  which  extends  to  nearly  one  hundred  pages, 
the  author  discourses  first  on  the  excellence  of  the  Divine  Office 
as  a  prayer,  and  next  on  the  gradual  development,  and  the  history 
of  the  various  editions  of  the  Breviary. 

The  chief  purpose  of  the  work  is,  however,  to  point  out  every 
particular  in  which  the  Editio  Typica,  as  approved  by  the  Sacred 
Congregation,  differs  from  other  editions  of  the  Breviary.  In  this 
investigation  the  learned  author  shows  a  thorough  acquaintance 
with  his  subject,  for  he  descends  to  the  most  minute  differences, 
including  even  the  punctuation. 


864  Notices  of  Books. 

Archaeologiae  Biblicae  Compendium.      Studio  et  Opera 

P.  J.  Antonii  A.  Lovera.    Typis  Vallardianis.  Mediolani. 

We  would  like  to  see  this  little  book  in  the  hands  of  all 
students  of  the  Bible  who  have  not  time  or  opportunity  to  read 
some  of  the  larger  treatises  on  Biblical  archaeology. 

The  places  mentioned  in  the  Scripture  are  identified  and 
described  in  this  little  book ;  many  questions  of  chronology  of 
deepest  interest  to  the  student  are  briefly  discussed,  and  the 
practices  ofthe  Jews  touching  their  rites,  feasts,  sacrifices,  system 
of  government,  and  social  habits,  are  accurately  explained. 

An  acquaintance  with  this  little  book  could  not  fail  to  secure 
a  largely  increased  interest,  and,  in  not  a  few,  an  enthusiasm  in  the 
study  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament. 

Mdlle.  Louise  de  Marillac. 
The  heroine  of  charity,  Mdlle.  Louise  de  Marillac,  was  an 
only  daughter  of  a  fine  old  French  family.  She  had  a  leaning 
for  the  cloister  from  childhood,  but  her  confessor,  a  man  in  high 
esteem  for  sanctity,  assured  her  she  had  no  vocation.  On  the 
death  of  her  father  she  married,  and  had  a  child.  Her  great 
charity  and  love  for  the  poor  shone  forth  so  brilliantly  among  her 
maternal  duties  that  she  attracted  the  attention  of  S.  Francis  de 
Sales,  who  paid  her  a  special  visit  while  passing  through  Paris. 
She  had  the  good  fortune  of  having  as  a  confessor  St.  Vincent 
de  Paul,  and  under  his  judicious  directions  her  natural  piety 
developed  into  perfect  sanctity.  The  penitent  and  confessor 
became  co-operators  in  a  great  work  of  charity.  St.  Vincent 
started  the  association  called  Dames  de  Charite  for  visiting  the 
sick  poor.  It  spread  like  an  epidemic,  as  he  said  himself. 
There  was  not  a  town  or  village  in  a  short  time  that  had  not  its 
charity.  He  needed  a  person  in  authority  to  go  round  and  visit 
the  various  associations,  and  report  on  the  working  and  results. 
Louise  Legras,  who  had  already  materially  aided  him  in  starting 
it,  was  the  person  he  selected.  The  description  of  her  work  and 
helpmates  is  very  interesting.  At  one  time,  when  the  plague  had 
stricken  France,  and  panic  seized  the  population,  Louise  and  her 
companions  showed  that  Christian  love  is  stronger  than  death. 
She  came  out  of  it  unharmed,  though  many  of  her  sisters 
received  the  imperishable  crown.  At  the  request  of  St.  Vincent 
she  drew  up  a  rule  for  the  new  community  destined  to  be  known 
all  the  world  over  as  the  Filles  de  Charite  of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul. 
The  book  is  full  of  interest  from  beginning  to  end,  and  the  stylq 
is  simple  and  pleasant. 


THE  IRISH 

ECCLESIASTICAL  EECOED. 


OGTOBEB,  1891. 


THE  PEIVILEGE   OF  ADEIAN  IV.  TO  HENKY  II. 

AQTHENTICITY  OF  THE  DOCUMENT  DEFENDED. 

IN  discussing  the  Privilege  of  Adrian,  which  involves  not  a 
question  of  faith  or  morals,  but  of  historical  interest,  we 
should  clearly  realize  the  essential  difference  between  the 
discipline  of  the  twelfth  and  that  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
We  should  bear  in  mind  the  circumstances  connected  with 
the  elevation  of  Adrian  to  the  papal  throne,  and  of  Henry 
to  the  throne  of  England.  We  should  remember  that  the 
Pope's  bosom  friends  were  the  warmest  advocates  of  his 
direct  temporal  power,  and  that  Adrian  himself  is  credited 
with  sharing  and  acting  on  such  views. ^ 

The  constitutional  law  of  the  twelfth  century  invested 
the  Pope  with  the  right  of  guarding  against  and  redressing 
national  abuses.  It  was  for  him  to  decide  who  was  to  be 
admitted  into  or  excluded  from  the  family  of  European 
sovereigns.  The  jurisprudence  of  the  age  allowed  his  right 
to  band  together  Catholic  princes  for  the  invasion  of  infidel 
lands  or  badly-governed  Christian  nations.  In  conformity 
with  these  principles,  Henry  II.  applied  to  Pope  Adrian  IV. 
for  the  Privilege  of  invading  Ireland.  The  design  for  the 
invasion  of  Ireland  had  been  conceived  by  earlier  English 
sovereigns,  but  no  better  occasion  for  such  an  enterprise  had 

^  Adrian  was  understood  to  claim  the  empire  as  a  fief ;  but  the  anger 
of  Barbarossa  called  forth  an  explanation  which  Bossuet  has  characterised 
in  strong  terms. — Bossuet,  CEuvres^  vol.  x,,  page  191. 

VOL.  XII.  3  I 


866  The  Privilege  of  Adrian  IV.  to  Henry  II, 

hitherto  offered.  Ireland  was  then  in  a  divided,  weak,  and 
disorderly  condition ;  and  the  king  was  young,  daring,  and 
ambitious.  Adrian  ascended  the  papal  throne  at  the  close 
of  the  year  1154 ;  and  early  in  1155  Henry  sent  an  embassy 
to  congratulate  the  English  Pope  on  his  accession,  and  to 
petition  for  the  privilege  of  invading  and  reforming  Ireland. 
The  embassy,  which  consisted  of  three  Continental  bishops 
and  the  abbot  of  St.  Alban's,  was  wholly  successful. 

There  are  some  who  distrust  the  authenticity  of  Adrian's 
Privilege,  not  because  of  the  temporal,  but  because  of  the 
spiritual  rights  which  it  purports  to  confer.  They  admit  the 
former  to  be  consistent  with  the  spirit  and  jurisprudence 
of  the  twelfth  century,  but  insist  that  the  latter  are  irre- 
concilable with  the  principles  of  spiritual  jurisdiction.  But 
the  powers  conferred  on  Plenr}^  were  wholly  executive  in 
character,  and  beside,  were  not  more  ample  than  those 
conferred  on  others  under  like  circumstances.  A  diploma 
given  by  Pope  Urban  II.  to  Koger  of  Sicily  in  the  beginning 
of  the  twelfth  century  is  a  case  in  point.  This  prince  and 
his  heirs  obtained,  among  other  privileges,  that  no  legate 
should  be  appointed  in  Sicily  without  their  consent ;  that, 
should  there  be  sent  even  a  legate  a  latere  into  their  king- 
dom for  purposes  of  religious  reform,  such  reform  was  to  be 
carried  out  through  the  temporal  princes ;  and  that,  when- 
ever the  presence  of  Sicilian  bishops  was  required  at  a 
General  Comicil,  Eoger  and  his  son  were  to  determine  the 
number  of  bishops  who  should  attend.  A  contemporary 
historian,  Godfrey  Malaterra,  without  being  able  to  refer  to 
the  original  document,  gave  a  copy  of  the  Privilege  in  his 
Sicilian  Monarchy.^  The  powers  it  conferred  were  so  ample, 
and  by-and-by  so  exaggerated  in  the  use,  that  the  Privilege 
was  questioned  by  ecclesiastical  authorities.  At  length,  after 
some  four  hundred  years,  the  original  diploma  came  to  light. 
Baronius  questioned  the  genuineness  of  the  document  because 
it  differed  in  some  respects  from  the  copy  given  of  old  by 
Malaterra ;  but  the  Begesta  of  Jaffe  have  lately  put  the  matter 
beyond  further  question.^   He  has  discovered  a  diploma  which 

1  B.  iv.,  ch.  ult.  Ad  an.  1097,  October,  n.  4840. 


The  Privilege  of  Adrian  IV.  to  Henry  II. 


867 


was  asked  by  Koger  II.,  and  given  to  him  by  Paschal  II.,  and 
which  was  merely  a  renewal  of  the  diploma  given  a  few 
years  previously  to  Koger  I.  by  Urban  II. 

The  Privilege  of  invading  and  reforming  Ireland  was  granted 
in  a  letter  which  we  subjoin,  and  there  is  no  reason  for 
doubting  that  without  it  the  invasion  would  have  been  under- 
taken. Pope  Adrian,  a  few  years  subsequently,  in  1159, 
refused  to  sanction  the  invasion  of  Spain  by  Louis  VII.,  for 
the  purpose  of  relieving  the  Christians  from  the  Mahommedan 
yoke,  fearing  that  without  the  invitation  or  consent  of  the 
Spaniards  defeat  would  be  the  result.  We  give  a  portion  of 
this  letter  of  refusal,  side  by  side  with  the  letter  of  assent  in 
reference  to  Ireland,  for  purposes  of  comparison,  and  in 
fuller  illustration  of  the  spirit  of  the  age  : — 

Letter  to  Henry,  anno  1155.       Letter  to  Louis,  anno  1159. 


"  Adrian,  bishop,  servant  of 
the  servants  of  God,  to  his 
most  dear  son  in  Christ,  the 
illustrious  King  of  the  English, 
health  and  benediction. 

"  The  thoughts  of  your  mag- 
nificence are  very  laudably  and 
profitably  employed  about  ac- 
quiring for  yourself  renown  on 
earth  and  an  increase  of  the 
reward  of  eternal  happiness  in 
heaven,  whilst  as  a  Catholic 
prince  you  purpose  to  extend 
the  boundaries  of  the  Church, 
announce  the  truths  of  Chris- 
tian faith  to  ignorant  and  bar- 
barous nations,  and  to  root  out 
the  weeds  of  wickedness  from 
the  Lord's  field :  and  the  more 
effectually  to  accomplish  this, 
you  implore  the  counsel  and 
favour  of  the  Apostolic  See,  in 
which  matter  we  are  certain 
that  the  higher  are  your  aims 
and  the  more  discreet  your  pro- 
ceedings, the  happier,  with  God's 
aid,  will  be  the  result ;  for  those 
undertakings  which  proceed 
from  the  ardour  of  faith  and 


"Adrian,  bishop,  servant  of 
the  servants  of  God,  to  his  most 
dear  son  in  Christ,  the  illustrious 
King  of  the  French,  greeting 
and  apostolic  benediction. 

* '  The  thoughts  of  your  mag- 
nificence are  laudably  and  pro- 
fitably employed  about  pro- 
pagating the  Christian  name 
on  earth  and  increasing  your 
reward  of  eternal  happiness  in 
heaven,  whilst  you  are  arrang- 
ing, in  conjunction  with  our 
most  deari  son  Henry,  the 
illustrious  King  of  the  English, 
to  hasten  into  Spain  for  the 
purpose  of  extending  the  boun- 
daries of  the  Christian  people, 
of  crushing  the  barbarity  of 
pagans,  of  subduing  to  the  yoke 
of  Christians  apostate  nations 
and  such  as  renounce  and  reject 
the  Christian  faith,  and  whilst 
you  carefully  muster  an  army, 
and  make  all  preparations  neces- 
sary for  the  expedition  that  it 
may  have  a  happy  issue. 

*'  With  a  view  to  such  a 
result,  you  request  the  advice 


868 


The  Privilege  of  Adrian  IV.  to  Henry  II. 


love  of  religion  are  surely  to 
have  a  happy  end  and  issue. 

''It  is  beyond  any  doubt,  as 
your  nobility  acknowledges, 
that  Ireland  and  all  the  islands 
on  which  Christ  the  sun  of 
justice  has  shone,  and  which 
have  received  the  teachings  of 
the  Catholic  faith,  are  subject 
to  the  authority  of  St.  Peter 
and  of  the  most  holy  Roman 
Church.i 

"  Wherefore  We  are  the  more 
anxious  to  sow  in  them  a  seed 
and  plantation  acceptable  to 
God,  as  we  know  our  con- 
science will  demand  a  most 
rigorous  account  of  us.  Now, 
most  dear  son  in  Christ,  you 
have  signified  to  us  that  you 
propose  entering  the  island  of 
Ireland  in  order  to  subject  the 
people  to  laws,  and  to  root 
out   the   weeds    of    vice:   that 


and  favour  of  your  mother,  the 
most  holy  Roman  Church;  now 
we  deem  your  proposal  the  more 
acceptable,  and  approve  your 
very  commendable  undertakings 
the  more  that  we  believe  they 
proceed  from  the  very  sincere 
root  of  charity,  and  your  desire 
and  purpose  have  had  their 
motive  in  the  very  great  ardour 
of  faith  and  love  of  religion 
.  .  .  considering  that  what  is 
deferred  for  a  time  is  not 
altogether  abandoned,  and  care- 
fully pondering  on  the  difficulties 
that  are  to  be  encountered,  we 
have  not  deemed  it  fit  to 
address  an  admonitory  and 
apostolic  exhortation  to  the 
people  of  your  kingdom  as  our 
venerable  brother  Rotrodus,^ 
Bishop  of  Evreux,  proposed  on 
your  part.^ 


vice: 

you  are  willing  to  pay  out  of  every  house  a  penny  as  an 
annual  tribute  to  St.  Peter,  and  to  preserve  the  rights  of  the 
churches  of  that  land  whole  and  inviolate  :  we,  therefore,  receiving 
with  favour  your  pious  and  laudable  desire,  and  graciously  assent- 
ing to  your  petition,  declare  that  it  is  pleasing  to  us  that  for  the 
sake  of  enlarging  the  limits  of  the  Church,  setting  bounds  to  the 
course  of  vice,  reforming  manners,  planting  the  seeds  of  virtue, 
and  of  increasing  the  Christian  religion,  you  should  enter  that 
island  and  carry  into  effect  these  things  which  belong  to  the 
service  of  God,  the  salvation  of  the  people,  and  that  the  people  of 


*  This  claim  was  grounded  on  the 
following  extract  from  the  supposed 
Donation  of  Constantine  to  Pope 
Sylvester  : — "  Quibus  ecclesiis  (in 
Roma)  pro  concinnatione  lumina- 
riorum  possessionum  prsedi  contu- 
limus  et  rebus  diversis  eas  ditavimus 
et  per  nostram  iraperialem  jussionem 
Bacram  tarn  in  oriente  quam  occidente 

.  .  vel  diversis  iiisuUs  nostra 
largitate  eis  libertatem  concessimus 
.  .  .  patris  nostri  Sylvestri  Ponti- 
ficis  snccessorum  que  ejus  etc." 
Corpus  juris  (  a;20??<c'/,  Deere ti  1  pars, 
distinct,  xcvi. 


2  liotrodus  was  one  of  the  three 
bishops  sent  by  Henry  II.  in  1155 
to  ask  the  privilege  touching  Ire- 
land. 

^  Bongars,  Gesta  Dei  per  Fran- 
cos, page  1174.  Du  Chesne,  Rerum 
franciscarum  sci'iptores,  tom.  •  iv., 
page  557 ;  JNIigne  Patrologie,  tom. 
clxxxviii.,  col.  1615. 


The  Privilege  of  Adrian  IV.  to  Henry  II,  869 

that  land  should  receive  you  honourably  and  reverence  you  as 
lord  :  the  rights  of  the  churches  being  preserved  entire  and 
inviolate,  and  reserving  the  annual  tribute  of  a  penny  from  each 
house  to  St.  Peter  and  the  most  holy  Koman  Church.^  If,  there- 
fore, you  resolve  to  execute  these  designs,  study  to  form  the 
people  to  good  morals,  and  take  such  steps  by  yourself  and  those 
you  shall  find  fit  in  faith,  words,  and  conduct  that  the  Church 
there  m^ay  be  adorned,  that  the  practices  of  Christian  faith  may 
be  introduced  and  increased,  and  that  everything  tending  to  the 
glory  of  God  and  the  salvation  of  souls  be  so  arranged  by  you  as 
to  deserve  from  God  an  increase  of  everlasting  reward,  and  secure 
on  earth  a  glorious  name  for  ages."  ^ 

Pope  Adrian  had  not  the  same  reasons  for  refusing  Henry 
as  for  refusing  Louis.  The  French  king  was  told  that,  going 
to  Spain  as  the  son-in-law  of  King  Alphonsus  and  as  a  friend 
to  the  Spanish  people,  he  should,  nevertheless,  have  an 
invitation  from  them,  lest  going  uninvited,  he  should  be 
abandoned  by  them,  and  be  crushed  by  the  overwhelming 
forces  of  the  Mahommedans.  But  there  was  no  danger  that 
Henry  would  suffer  a  defeat  from  the  Irish  people,  nor  any 
likc^.lihood  that  he  would  receive  an  invitation  from  them  to 
subdue  and  reform  them.  The  disorderly  state  of  Ireland 
and  the  jurisprudence  of  the  age  explain  the  conduct  of  the 
Pope  towards  Henry.  The  Pope,  without  exactly  giving 
Ireland  away,  or  ordering  Henry  to  go  there,  praised  the 
motives  by  which  the  king  professed  to  be  actuated,  and 
judged,  no  doubt,  that  the  change  in  the  political  condition 
of  the  country  would  be  richly  compensated  for  by  moral 
and  religious  advantages.  By  the  supposed  Donation  of 
Constantine  the  Koman  Church  received  from  the  Emperor 
a  present  of  all  Christian  islands  for  defraying  the  expenses 
and  maintaining  the  splendour  of  religion.  A  belief  in  the 
Donation  was  embodied  in  ecclesiastical  treatises,  and  in  the 
Canonical  Decree  of  Gratian  in  the  year  1151.  Henry,  who 
asked   for   the   Privilege,   and   the   Pope,  who   granted   it, 

1  The  Peter  pence  which  Henry  promised  to  the  Pope  would  be 
equivalent  to  a  moderate  rent,  the  value  of  the  denarius  being  considered. 
Henry  had  already  offered  to  make  the  payment  of  Peter  pence  general  in 
England,  if  the  Pope  would  decide  in  his  favour  against  St.  Thomas  of 
Canterbury:  "  Etiam  adjecto,  denarium  beati  Petri  qui  nunc  a  solis 
adscriptis  glebse  solvitur."     Gulielmus  Fitzstep.,  c.  i.,  241. 

2  Giraldus  Cambrensis,  Hibernia  Expug. 


870  The  Privilege  of  Adrian  IV.  to  Henry  II. 

believed  in  Constantine's  Donation ;  and  a  belief  in  it  con- 
tinued for  six  hundred  years,  till  its  spuriousness  was 
exposed  by  Catholic  writers  in  the  fifteenth  century.^ 

But  for  this  grant  of  Adrian,  thus  antecedently  probable, 
is  there  any  contemporaneous  evidence  ?  Yes,  Robert  du 
Mont  states  that  King  Henry,  after  receiving  the  Privilege, 
consulted  with  the  Queen  mother  and  his  Barons,  who 
represented  to  him  the  difficulties  that  confronted  him  at 
home  and  on  the  Continent,  and  thus  dissuaded  him  from 
invading  Ireland.^ 

John  of  Salisbury  states  that  he  was  instrumental  in 
obtaining  the  Privilege  from  Adrian.  A  word  on  the 
character  and  the  occasion  of  his  testimony.  On  the  eleva- 
tion of  Adrian  to  the  papacy,  John  visited  him,  and  remained 
with  him  three  months  in  Beneventum.^  They  were  on 
such  friendly  terms  that  the  Pope  would  have  him  eat  off 
the  same  plate,  and  drink  from  the  same  cup  with  himself, 
and  declared  that  he  regarded  John  with  as  much  love  as  he 
loved  his  own  uterine  brother.*  John,  because  of  his  moral 
and  intellectual  gifts,  was  worthy  of  the  Pope's  friendship. 
Feller,  expressing  the  feeling  of  the  Catholic  world,  says 
that  he  *'  acquired  a  high  reputation  for  virtue  and  learning." 
In  Ca7nhrensis  E versus,  whose  author  denied  the  Privilege 
of  Adrian,  it  is  admitted  that  John  possessed  "  consummate 
prudence  and  uprightness."  Cave,  in  his  Literary  History, 
calls  John  a  man  "of  knowledge  and  integrity."  The 
Sacred  Congregation^  and  Pope  Alexander  III.,*^  in  canon- 
izing St.  Thomas  of  Canterbury,  attached  the  greatest 
importance  to  his  testimony.     John  of  Salisbury,  morally 


1  It  is  not  true,  as  stated  by  a  writer  in  the  Analecta  Juris  Pontijicil, 
an.  1882,  fasic.  185,  that  before  Adrian  IV.  no  use  was  made  of  the  sup- 
posed Donation.  Use  was  made  of  by  St.  Peter  Damian,  in  arguing  against 
the  anti-Pope  Cadolaus;  by  Pope  Leo  IX.,  in  his  correspondence  with 
Michael  Cerularius ;  by  Eneas  of  Paris,  Ado  of  Vienne,  and  by  Hincmar 
of  liheims.  Patrologie,  tom.  cxliii.,  page  752.  Pertz,  Scriptores,  ii.  315, 
Sirmond,  tom.  ii.,  page  206. 

2  Patrologie^  tom.  clx.,  page  420. 
8  Polycradcus,  lib.  vi.,  ch.  xxiv. 

*  Metalogicus,  ch.  xlii. 

5  Baronius,  Annal.  ad  an.  1171. 

«  Benedict  XIV.  de  canoniz  et  heatif.  SS.^  lib.  iv.,  ch.  v.,  n.  3. 


The  Privilege  of  Adrian  IV.  to  Itennj  II.  87i 

and  intellectually  one  of  the  most  imposing  figures  of  the 
thirteenth  century,  and  subsequently  bishop  of  Chartres, 
was  the  warmest  supporter  of  the  Pope's  temporal  power 
over  States,  and  was  probably  the  very  writer  of  the  petition 
to  Adrian  for  the  Privilege  regarding  Ireland. 

The  embassy  sent  by  the  King  to  congratulate  the  Pope 
and  seek  the  Privilege  consisted  of  three  Continental  pre- 
lates— the  Bishops  of  Lisieux,  of  Mans,  and  of  Evreux, 
together  with  the  Abbot  of  St.  Alban's.^  The  presence  of 
the  abbot  was  not  without  its  influence  ;  Adrian's  father  had 
been  a  monk  in  St.  Alban's  for  fifty  years.''  It  is  not  certain 
whether  John  of  Salisbury  accompanied  or  preceded  th^ 
embassy;  but  it  appears  that  he  took  part  in  the  mission. 
In  the  year  1159,  on  hearing  of  Adrian's  death,  after  praising 
the  deceased  Pope,  and  deploring  his  loss,  he  wrote  : — • 

"  At  my  request  he  granted  to  the  illustrious  King  of  the 
English,  Henry  II.,  Ireland,  to  be  held  by  hereditary  right,  as 
his  letter  testifies  to  this  day.*  For  all  the  islands  by  an  ancient 
right  are  said  to  belong  to  the  Eoman  Church  in  virtue  of  the 
Donation  of  Constantine,  who  founded  and  endowed  it.  He  also 
sent  by  me  a  gold  ring  adorned  with  an  emerald,^  whereby  there 
would  be  an  investiture  of  the  right  of  governing  Ireland,  and  the 
ring  was  ordered  to  be  kept  henceforth  in  the  public  archives."  ^ 

1  "  Nuncios  solemnes  Romam  mittens  rogavit  Papam  Adrianum  ut 
liceret,"  &c.     Hoveden,  Historia  Major ^  vol.  ii.,  page  300. 

2  Abbot  Robert  was  detained  by  the  Pope  after  the  bishops  left.  The 
Pope  playfully  remarked  that  Ije  was  repelled  as  a  postulant  at  St.  Alban's, 
and  the  Abbot  wittily  replied  that  the  will  of  God  could  not  be  oppo.sed. 
Stephen's  Monasdcum  Ajiglicamim,  vol.  i.,  page  2-1:8.  Newcombe's  History, 
page  65. 

3  The  Irish  princes  swore  fealty  to  Htnry  and  his  successors  (Chron. 
Iliherniae).  Even  among  the  Irish  the  law  of  Tanistry  only  modified  the 
law  of  hereditary  succession.  Hence  Donald  O'Neill,  in  addressing  Pope 
John  XXII.,  styled  himself  heir  to  the  sovereignty  of  Ireland.  i:co(o- 
Chron.,  vol.  ii.,  page  281. 

*  That  the  phrase  to  the  present  dcnj  was  applied  to  an  interval  of  a  few 
years,  appears  from  the  Gospel  of  St.  Matthew,  xxviii.  8-15,  and  the  Acta 
of  the  Apostles,  xxii.  21-31. 

^  The  use  of  a  ring  as  a  symbol  of  right  did  not  imply  a  fief.  Inno- 
cent 111.  sent  a  ring  to  Richard  I.,  who,  however,  paid  no  vassalage.  So, 
too,  Zani  received  the  dominion  of  the  Adriatic  for  Venice  from  Alexander 
III.  without  its  being  feudatory.  The  ceremony  of  annually  espousing 
the  Adriatic  continued  as  long  as  the  Republic  lasted  ;  and  to  its  discon- 
tinuance Byron  alludes  : — 

"  The  spouseless  Adriatic  mourns  her  lord 
And  annual  marriage  now  no  more  renewed." 

^  MetologicuSj  ch.  xlii. 


872  The  Privilege  of  Adrian  IV.  to  Henry  II. 

This  statement  was  made  at  the  end  of  a  treatise  which 
was  in  the  hands  of  the  learned  in  England  and  on  the 
Continent ;  it  is  not  absent  from  a  single  copy  of  the 
Metalogicus,  and  is,  therefore,  no  interpolation.  John's 
statement,  made  towards  the  end  of  1159,  referred  to  the 
Privilege  which,  though  not  yet  made  use  of,  had  been 
obtained  in  the  year  1155.  We  may  remark  that  John's 
allusion  to  the  king's  hereditary  right  is  justified  by  the 
petition  for  the  Privilege,  and  by  the  king's  pretensions 
rather  than  by  Adrian's  guarded  letter  of  Privilege. 

Early  reference  appears  to  have  been  made  to  Henry's 
claim  to  Ireland  by  the  Bishop  of  Lisieux.  On  the  death  of 
Pope  Adrian,  several  anti-Popes  appeared,  and  Europe  was 
divided  by  rival  parties.  Louis  of  France  and  Henry  of 
England  seemed  to  lean  to  the  cause  of  the  anti-Pope  Victor. 
Louis,  who  was  son-in-law  to  the  King  of  Spain,  consented 
to  be  guided  by  Henry  in  bestowing  his  allegiance.  In  order 
to  secure  their  votes,  the  supporters  of  Pope  Alexander  III. 
granted  a  dispensation  for  a  marriage  between  Louis's 
daughter,  aged  three  years,  and  Henry's  son.  This  took 
place  at  a  council  held  in  France  in  the  year  1161.  The 
Italian  cardinals  blamed  the  French  bishops  for  granting 
this  dispensation ;  but,  in  their  justification,  the  French 
prelates  urged  that  they  thereby  secured  the  votes,  not  only 
of  Spain  and  France,  but  of  England  and  Ireland,  not  of 
Scotland.  This  plea  was  set  forth  by  Arnulph  of  Lisieux,  a 
member  of  the  embassy  to  Pope  Adrian.^ 

So,  too,  Peter  of  Blois,  writing  to  the  Bishop  of  Palermo, 
on  his  elevation  to  the  episcopate,  stated  that  Henry  had 
added  Ireland  to  his  hereditary  dominions.^  This  letter  was 
written  to  Walter  on  his  elevation  to  the  archbishopric  of 
Palermo  in  the  year  1170,^  and  before  Henry  went  to 
Ireland. 

*  "Dearbitrioregis  Anglorum,  in  momento,  Francorum,  Anglorum  .  .  . 
Iliberiiiae  .  .  .  regna  cepistis."  Watterich,  vol.  ii.,  page  511.  Gallia 
Christiana,  torn,  ii.,  page  357. 

2  Migne,  Patrologie,  torn,  ccvii.,  page  200-1.  Cardinal  Moran  and  other 
writers  seem  not  to  have  adverted  to  this  letter,  otherwise  they  would 
hardly  have  appealed  to  the  silence  of  Peter  of  Blois. 

*  Gam,  Series  Efdscoporum. 


The  Privilege  of  Adrian  IV.  to  Henry  II.  873 

The  authenticity  of  the  Privilege  of  Adrian  is  more  clearly 
est abh shed  by  the  confirmatory  Brief  of  Alexander  III. 
King  Henry,  by  being  accessory  to  the  martyrdom  of  St. 
Thomas,  incurred  the  displeasure  of  Pope  Alexander,  who 
sent  legates  to  France  with  a  view  of  placing  his  dominions 
under  interdict.  Henry  fled  from  them,  and,  accompanied 
by  a  formidable  army,  crossed  to  Ireland.  This  act  in  the 
circumstances,  and  the  attitude  of  the  Irish  in  the  face  of  it, 
furnish  arguments  in  favour  of  the  Privilege  of  Adrian.  On 
the  one  hand,  this  was  not  a  time  for  Henry  to  undertake 
anything  that  could  displease  the  Pope,  and  thus  aggravate 
the  prejudice  against  himself ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  vain 
though  any  resistance  on  the  part  of  a  weak  and  divided 
Irish  nation  might  be,  the  unresisting  attitude  of  the  entire 
people  can  hardly  be  explained  apart  from  any  allegation  or 
pretence  of  right  on  the  part  of  Henry.  An  explanation  of 
this  general  inaction — not  a  single  blow  was  struck  in  anger 
or  despair — is  found  in  the  Privilege  of  Adrian,  which  was 
made  known  by  John  of  Salisbury,  the  Bishop  of  Lisieux, 
and  Peter  of  Blois.  The  Irish  princes  in  person,  and  the 
Chief-king  by  proxy,  swore  fealty  to  Henry.  He  received 
the  submission  of  the  Irish  Church  by  its  having,  at  his 
bidding,  convened  a  National  Council  at  Cashel  for  the 
reformation  of  morals  and  discipline.  The  king,  on  learning 
that  the  Pope's  legates  were  willing  to  listen  to  a  defence  of 
his  conduct  in  reference  to  the  martyrdom  of  St.  Thomas, 
after  a  stay  of  six  months,  left  Ireland  in  April,  1172.  As  a 
help  to  his  defence,  the  king  sent  an  account  of  his  pro- 
ceedings in  Ireland  to  the  Pope.  His  acquittal  by  the 
legates  at  Avranches,  in  August,  and  his  submission,  rein- 
stated him  in  the  favour  of  Alexander,  who,  in  September 
following,  sent  him  this  confirmatory  Brief  ^ : — 

'*  Alexander,  bishop,  servant  of  the  servants  of  God,  to  his  most 
dear  son  in  Christ,  the  illustrious  King  of  the  English,  greeting 
and  Apostolic  benediction. 

"  Seeing  that  grants  made  by  our  predecessors  for  valid  reasons 
ought  always  to  be  confirmed,    and   considering   the   Privilege 

1  One  is  here  reminded  of  the  renewal  by  Paschal  II.  to  Roger  II.  of 
Sicily  of  the  Privilege  granted  by  Urban  II.  to  Roger  I. 


874  The  Privilege  of  Adrian  IV.  to  Henry  It. 

concerning  the  Donation  of  Ireland,  which  belongs  to  us,  lately 
given  by  Adrian,  our  predecessor,  we,  following  the  example  of  the 
venerable  Pope  Adrian,  and  looking  forward  to  the  realization  of 
our  own  wishes,  do  hereby  confirm  the  grant  of  the  dominion  of 
Ireland  given  by  him  to  you,  reserving  to  St.  Peter  and  the  Holy 
Eoman  Church  the  annual  payment  of  a  penny  from  each  house 
as  well  in  Ireland  as  in  England ;  in  order  that  by  removing  the 
filthiness  of  the  land,  a  barbarous  nation,  which  is  Christian  only 
in  name,  may,  by  your  indulgent  care,  put  on  grace  of  manners, 
and  that  the  disorderly  Church  of  these  lands  being  put  in  order, 
the  people  henceforth  may  become  through  you  Christian  in 
reality  as  in  name."  ^ 

This  confirmatory  Brief  clearly  establishes  the  Privilege 
of  Adrian.  Of  the  same  date  as  the  Brief,  20th  September, 
1172,  we  have  three  letters  addressed  respectively  to  the 
English  king,  the  Irish  princes,  and  the  Irish  bishops.  Some 
writers  who  admit  "  as  certainly  authentic  "  the  genuineness 
of  these  letters,  deny  the  authenticity  of  Alexander's  Brief, 
but  this  on  no  valid  grounds.^  We  may  remark  that  the 
Privilege  of  Adrian  and  Alexander's  Brief  insist  mainly  on 
three  points — the  right  of  the  Pope  to  Ireland  as  an  island  ; 
the  good  that  would  accrue  to  the  Koman  Church  by  Peter 
pence  ;  and  the  good  that  would  result  to  Ireland  itself. 
Those  are  the  prominent  points  in  both  documents  :  what 
motive  can  there  be  for  denying,  in  the  face  of  overwhelming 
evidence,  that  one  Pope  wrote  what,  admittedly,  another 
substantially  adopted?  Is  not  "all  the  islands  on  which 
Christ  shone  belong  to  St.  Peter  and  the  Koman  Church, 
as  your  Highness  doth  acknowledge,"  in  Adrian's  letter, 
identical  with  that  in  the  admitted  letter  of  Alexander — 
*' your  highness  is  aware  that  the  Eoman  C'a:v:z\\  has  by 
right  an  authority  in  islands  different  from  that  which  she 
possesses  over  the  mainland  and  continent"?^  Adrian 
wished  that  the  king  should   ''preserve   the  rights  of  the 


1  Giraldus,  Hib.  Expugiiata.  Chevalier  Artaud  iu  his  Lives  of  the  Popes 
is  mistaken  in  statino^  that  Alexander  repented  of  having  given  Ireland  to 
Henry,  because  of  this  king's  participation  in  the  murder  of  St.  Thomas. 
Prejudice  rather  than  authority  led  him,  as  others,  to  think  that  Alex- 
ander's grant  of  Ireland  was  previous  to  the  martyrdom. 

2  Cardinal  Moran,  in  I.  E,  Record,  Nov.,  1872. 

3  Liber  niger  Scaccarii,  fol.  9.,  ed.  by  Hearne,  vol.  i.    llymer's  Foedera. 


The  Privilege  of  Adrian  IV.  to  Henry  II.  875 

Church  in  Ireland,  and  extend  its  borders  by  paying  out  of 
every  house  a  penny  to  St.  Peter;"  and  has  not  this  its 
counterpart  in  Alexander's  letter  in  "  the  desire  not  only  to 
preserve  but  even  to  extend  the  privileges  of  the  Church  and 
St.  Peter,  as  you  are  bound  to  do,  where  she  has  none  "  ? 
Pope  Adrian  expressed  a  wish  that  the  Irish  "  should  receive 
and  honour  King  Henry  as  lord  ;"  so,  too.  Pope  Alexander, 
in  his  letter  to  the  Irish  princes,  was  happy  to  learn  "that 
you  received  Henry  as  lord/'  Does  not  the  mention  of 
"  checking  the  course  of  crime  and  eradicating  filthiness 
from  the  country,"  found  in  Adrian's  letter,  find  an  echo  in 
the  "  licentiousness  in  every  course  of  crime  and  in  the 
eradication  of  abominable  filthiness,"  found  in  the  unques- 
tioned letter  of  Pope  Alexander  ?  ^  If  Alexander,  in  his  letter, 
hoped  that  the  '*  barbarous  people  without  order  or  law 
would  be  brought  to  order  and  respect  for  the  divine  law," 
why  doubt  that  he  hoped  in  his  Brief  "  that  the  barbarous 
nation  would  assume  gracefulness  of  morals,  and  that  the 
disordered  Church  would  be  brought  into  order"?  The 
result  proposed  in  Alexander's  letter  to  the  king  was  "  the 
discipline  of  the  Christian  religion  and  the  gain  of  an  ever- 
lasting crown  of  glory."  Does  not  this  correspond  to 
Adrian's  wish  and  promise  of  an  "  increase  of  the  Christian 
religion  and  the  reward  of  everlasting  life"?  These  coin- 
cidences, and  the  allusion  to  the  King's  acknowledgment  of 
Alexander's  special  right  over  islands  in  his  letter  to  Henry, 
clearly  prove  either  that  Pope  Alexander  had  before  him  the 
Privilege  of  Adrian,  or  that  the  king  in  applying  for  a  renewal 
of  it,  as  the  original  may  have  lapsed  by  the  death  of  Adrian, 
used  the  very  arguments  employed  for  or  by  him  when  he 
asked  for  the  original  Privilege. 

We  would  further  claim  special  attention  for  the  follow- 
ing Consistorial  decree,  made  in  June,  1558,  at  the  time 
when  Ireland  was  raised  to  the  dignity  of  a  kingdom.     It 

1 "  Plerumque  pervenit   ad  notitiam    apostolicam   quod  novercae  a 

Srivigno  et  duae  sorores  ab  eodem  carnaliter  cognitae  sunt,  .  .  . 
overcas  suas  publice  introducunt  et  ex  iis  non  erubescunt  filios  procreare  : 
frater  uxore  fratris  eo  vivente  abutitur,  unus  duabus  sororibus  coiiso- 
brinis." —  TAher  Scaccarii. 


876  The  Privilege  of  Adrian  IV.  to  Henry  II. 

was  subsequently  embodied  in  a  Bull,  published  by  Pope 
Paul  IV.  : — ''Whereas  ever  since  the  dominio7i  of  Ireland 
was  obtained  from  the  Apostolic  See  by  the  kings  of  England, 
they  always  had  styled  themselves  only  lords  of  Ireland,  till 
Henry  VIIL,  breaking  away  from  the  unity  of  the  Catholic 
Church  and  obedience  to  the  Eoman  Pontiff,  usurped  the 
kingly  title,"  &c/  This  document  alone  is  sufficient  to  prove 
the  Privilege  of  Adrian.  What  reply  is  made  to  it  by  the 
learned  impugners  of  the  Privilege  ?  Why,  this,  that  Pope 
Paul  IV.  wrote  only  what  w^as  suggested  to  him  by  Philip 
and  Mary.2     Comment  is  unnecessary. 

Adrian's  letter  of  Privilege  and  Alexander's  Brief  were 
read  at  a  Synod  at  Waterford  in  the  year  1175.  On  this 
occasion  Henry's  authority  in  ecclesiastical  matters  was 
exercised  by  the  appointment  of  Augustine  to  the  See  of 
Waterford,^  whom  he  would  have  consecrated,  not  by  the 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  as  had  been  usual  in  the  case  of 
Waterford  bishops,  but  by  the  Metropolitan  of  Cashel.  A 
few  years  subsequently,  in  1188,  Gerald  Barry  published  for 
the  world  in  his  Conquest  of  Ireland  Adrian's  Privilege  and 
Alexander's  Brief.  ^  Even  had  the  Privilege  not  come  down 
to  us  in  its  genuine  shape,  or  been  established  by  papal 
documents,  its  existence  would  still  be  put  beyond  question 
by  the  writers  of  succeeding  generations.  From  the  days  of 
Adrian  down  to  the  present  time  historians  have  vouched 
for  a  Grant  from  Adrian.  We  have  for  this  the  authority  of 
Giraldus  Cambrensis,  in  the  twelfth  century ;  of  Brompton, 
Gervase,  Diceto,  the  Saxon  Chronicle,  Hoveden,  Matthew 
Paris,^  Trivettus,  and  Wendover  in  the  thirteenth  century ; 
oi  Leahhar  Breac,^  s>iid  the  testimony  of  the  entire  Irish 
nation,  as  embodied  in  the  Eemonstance  of  Donald  O'Neill 
in  the  fourteenth  century ;  in  succeeding  ages  the  authority 

'  Dullarium  Romanum.     Ed.  novissima. 

2  "  Tout  ce  qu'  on  peut  dire,  c'  est  que  Paul  IV.  ou  plutot  le  com- 
pilateur dela  bulla  transcrivit  la  requete  de  Philippe et Marie.  Voila  tout.'' 
Analecta,  &c.,  page  339. 
^•' '^  ^  Giraldus,  Hib  Expugn.,  lib.  2. 

'  Ibid. 

^  He  was  monk  of  St.  Alban's, 

6  Page  90. 


The  Privilege  of  Adrian  IV.  to  Henry  II.  ^11 

of  a  ''cloud"  of  witnesses,  including  Cardinal  Pole,  who 
stated  that  Adrian  was  influenced  by  an  English  bias  ;  and 
in  the  seventeenth  century  the  testimony  of  M'Gheogan, 
Archbishop  Lombard,  and  of  the  historian  Keating.^  The 
testimony  of  some  of  these  witnesses  is  the  more  valuable 
as  it  was  their  interest  to  deny,  if  possible,  the  existence  of 
the  Privilege.  Thus,  the  O'Neill  of  Ulster,  in  the  name  of 
the  Irish  princes  and  people,  addressing  a  statement  of 
grievances  to  Pope  John  XXII.,  stated  that  their  grievances 
were  in  violation  of  the  terms  on  which  Adrian  gave  Ireland 
to  Henry.  It  would  have  been  easier  and  better  to  deny  the 
Privilege,  had  there  been  none,  than  complain  of  the  violation 
of  a  mythical  compact.  Pope  John  did  not  question  the 
Privilege.^ 

On  another  occasion  the  Irish  nation  took  a  different 
view  of  the  Privilege,  supplying,  however,  an  additional 
proof  of  its  existence.  Instead  of  demanding  a  fulfilment  of 
the  conditions  of  the  Privilege,  the  Irish  pleaded  Obreption 
(false  representation)  and  insisted  on  the  nullity  of  the 
Grant.  This  was  made  a  matter  of  accusation  by  the  Lord 
Justiciary,  who  forwarded  the  charge  to  Pope  John.  The 
Lord  Justiciary,  among  other  charges,  accused  the  Irish  of 
stating  that  the  dominion  of  Ireland  was  obtainod  by  false 
representations  and  Bulls. ^  The  accusation  was  brought  by 
the  inhabitants  of  the  Pale  against  the  native  Irish  :  if  there 
had  been  a  shadow  of  doubt  as  to  the  Privilege,  would  a 
charge  have  been  founded  on  it  on  the  one  hand,  or  met  by 
the  plea  of  Obreption  on  the  other  hand  ?  By  and  by,  when, 
in  the  seventeenth  century,  it  was  important  to  find  grounds 
for  questioning  the  Privilege,^  the  plea  of  Ohreption  was 
boldly  stated. 

i"Amore  que  patriae  ductus  imperium  Hiberniae  quae  Pontificis 
ditionis  fuerat  Henrico  11.  regi  concessit."     In  Oralione  in  Comitiis,  Ussher. 

' "  In  apostolicis  litteris  inde  factis  clarae  memoriae  Henrico  regi  pro- 
genitoii  tuo  dominium  Yberniae  concessit."  Theiner,  Vet.  Monumenta  ad 
an.  1318. 

3  "  Asserentes  etiam  dominum  regem  Angliae  ex  falsa  suggestione  et  ex 
falsis  Bullis  terram  Hiberniae  in  dominium  impetrasse  ac  communiter  haec 
tenentes."     Barherini  MSS. 

*  "  Impetratura  narraus  falsa."    O'SuUivan's  Cathol  liisi. 


878  The  Privilege  of  Adrian  IV.  to  Henry  II. 

In  a  dispute  between  the  Archbishop  of  Cashel  and  the 
English  monarch,  which  was  carried  before  Urban  III.,  the 
king  pleaded  precedent  in  his  favour,  "  ever  since  the  English 
had  come  to  Ireland  by  direction  of  the  Apostolic  See."  The 
statement,  which  is  only  parenthetic,  was  made  in  the  year 
1221,  and  was  addressed  to  the  Pope,  who  was  supposed  to 
have  the  original  Privilege.^ 

Allusion  to  the  Privilege  mingles  with  liie  story  of  Irish 
hate  and  Irish  love.  At  the  close  of  the  thirteenth  century 
a  dispensation  in  consanguinity  was  applied  for  by  two 
powerful  families  in  Meath.  The  grounds  for  application 
were  the  furtherance  of  those  ends  "  for  which  King  Henry, 
with  an  army,  came  to  Ireland  according  to  the  good- will  of 
the  Apostohc  See.^  The  Pope,  in  granting  the  dispensation, 
endorses,  by  quoting  without  question,  the  grounds  of  the 
required  dispensation. 

Let  us  for  a  moment  revert  to  Gerald  Barry — no  man  was 
more  competent  to  speak  of  the  Privilege.  He  was  born  about 
1150;  was  tutor  to  Prince  John;  accompanied  him  to  Ireland, 
and  was  subsequently  bishop  of  St.  David's.  He  pubhshed 
his  Conquest  of  Ireland,  containing  the  Privilege,  about  the 
year  1188,  and  dedicated  the  latest  edition  of  his  work,  in 
the  year  1202,  to  his  former  pupil.  King  John.  Gerald  here 
tells  the  king  that  the  Conquest  was  a  failure,  because  the 
Peter  pence,  promised  in  the  application  for  the  Privilege, 
were  not  paid.  He  urges  on  the  king  that,  agreeably  to  the 
terms  of  the  Privilege,  which  is  kept  in  the  castle  at  Win- 
chester, he  should  pay  the  Peter  pence  in  order  to  bring  the 
blessing  of  God  on  the  Conquest.  Is  it  possible  that  this 
appeal  could  be  made  to  the  pocket  of  grasping  King  John,  if 
there  had  been  the  least  doubt  of  the  existence  of  the  Privi- 
lege ?  The  Privilege  was  referred  to,  not  merely  as  a  matter 
of  historical  interest,  but  as  bearing  on  important  concerns 
of  daily  life. 

When  kings   and  pontiffs  and   an    entire   nation   thus 

1"  Ab  eo  tempore  quo  Anglici  de  mandato  Apostolicae  Sedis."  Vet. 
Monum. 

2"De  voluntate  sedis  Apostolicae  armata  manu."  Theiner,  ad  an. 
1290, 


The  Privilege  of  Adrian  IV.  to  Henry  II,  879 

testify  to  the  Grant  of  Adrian,  it  is  quite  unintelligible  how 
able  historical  critics  can  state  that  the  "  Irish  nation  at 
all  times  unhesitatingly  pronounced  it  an  Anglo-Norman 
forgery. "  Such,  however,  is  the  statement  of  Cardinal  Moran^ 
and  Dr.  Yungmann.^  But  this  groundless  statement  is  fully 
met  by  e\adence  to  the  contrary  supplied  by  the  cardinal 
himself.  His  Spicilegium  Ossoriense  informs  usf,  that  in  the 
year  1605  a  petition  was  presented  by  the  Irish  nation  for  a 
relaxation  of  the  penal  laws,  on  the  ground  that  the  grant  of 
Ireland  by  Adrian  conditioned  the  preservation  of  its  rights 
whole  and  inviolate  to  the  Irish  Church,  and  that  a  firm 
belief  in  this  compact  was  shared  by  every  Irish  Catholic. 
The  cardinal  answers  his  own  objections  to  the  Privilege. 
Now,  furthermore,  we  make  bold  to  assert  that  a  single 
pre-Keformation  writer  cannot  be  quoted  in  denial  of  the 
Privilege.  Subsequently,  religious  bias,  aided  by  national 
vanity,  suggested  doubts.  A  few  writers  were  found  con- 
cerned to  maintain  that  the  Irish  nation  was  at  all  times 
pure  and  Catholic  in  practice,  and  that  a  Grant  founded  on 
an  opposite  supposition  must  be  a  forgery.  This  conclusion 
was  gratifying  to  national  vanity,  and  at  the  same  time 
exonerated  the  Pope  from  all  responsibility  for  the  Conquest 
and  its  ultimate  consequences  in  Church  and  State. 

So  overwhelming,  however,  are  the  internal  evidence  and 
the  testimony  of  witnesses  in  support  of  the  Privilege,  that 
its  few  opponents  have  to  fall  back  on  negative  proofs  of  a 
fanciful  character.  Thus  a  Continental  writer  imagines 
there  was  a  coolness  between  the  Pope  and  Henry,  because  he 
married  Eleanora,  the  divorced  wife  of  King  Louis,  and  that  a 
Privilege  would  not  on  that  account  be  given  to  Henry.*  Why, 
Eleanora' s  first  marriage  was  null,  and  she  became  conse- 


*  I.  E.  Record,  November,  1872,  page  62. 

*  Dmei'tationes  Selectae,  torn,  v.,  page  228. 

3 "  Cum  omnes  fere  sint  Catholicae  religionis  et  professionis  etiam 
persuasmn  habeut  titulum  quo  reges  Angliae  domiuium  in  eos  acceperuut 
esse  ut  ejusdem  religionis  jura  inter  ipsos  illibata  et  Integra  conservent 
juxta  litteras  hac  de  re  ab  Adriano  quarto  Pontifici  Maximo,"  &c.  Vol.  i., 
page  113. 

4  Jjer  Katholik,  1884,  xi.,  Seite  178-191, 


880  The  Privilege  of  Adrian  IV.  to  Henry  II. 

quently  free.  And  if  Henry  married  Eleanora,  so  did  Louis 
marry  a  Spanish  wife,  and  yet  he  obtained  the  conditional 
privilege  of  invading  Spain.  Again,  the  alleged  silence  of 
the  Begesta  of  Jaffe  on  the  Privilege  in  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury has  been  relied  on  as  a  negative  proof  by  Cardinal 
Moran  and  others;  but  the  latest  editors  of  the  Begesta  have 
pronounced  as  genuine  both  Adrian's  letter^  and  Alexander's 
confirmatory  Brief. 

Let  us,  in  conclusion,  notice  that  against  the  over- 
whelming mass  of  evidence  in  proof  of  our  contention,  is 
advanced  only  the  unsupported  assertion  that  the  Privilege 
was  forged  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  the  rebellious  Irish 
quiet  at  some  unspecified  time  after  the  year  1188.^  Of  what 
use  could  such  a  document  be  when  there  existed  in  1172 
the  real  letters  of  Alexander  commissioning  the  Irish  bishops 
to  help  Henry  in  keeping  Ireland  subject  to  him  ?  Whence 
the  necessity  of  a  forged  document  after  1188,  as  the  original 
was  read  in  1175,  on  occasion  of  the  consecrating  of  the 
Bishop  of  Waterford?  Was  not  the  papal  mind  clearly 
expressed  when,  in  1177,  Cardinal  Vivian  would  have  those 
excommunicated  who  opposed  the  authority  of  Henry,  and 
when,  in  1185,  Urban  III.  sent  a  legate  to  crown  John  King 
of  Ireland  ? 

If  it  is  admitted  that  Pope  Alexander's  letter  enjoined 
on  the  Irish  bishops  the  duty  of  helping  Henry  "  in  keeping 
possession  of  Ireland,  acquired  under  the  inspiration  of  God," 
why  not  more  readily  admit,  on  overwhelming  evidence,  his 
Brief  of  the  same  date,  which  merely  "  confirms  to  him  the 
dominion  of  Ireland"?  And  if  we  admit  the  Brief,  the 
genuineness  of  Adrian's  Privilege  necessarily  follows.  The 
evidence  in  its  support  consists  of  the  historical  testimony 
of  the  most  approved  kind.  The  very  last  cI  these,  furnished 
in  the  sixteenth  century,  would  of  itself  be  sufficient  for  our 
purpose.  The  statement  in  the  Bull  of  Pope  Paul  IV. — 
"  the  kings  of  England  obtained  the  dominion  of  Ireland 


^Jaffe,  Lipsise,  1886,  fasic.  nonus,  n.   10056,  ei  Fasic.     Undecimiis, 
page  263,  no.  1217-4. 

2  Analecta  Juris  Ponti fieri,  1.  cit.,  page  310. 


l^rom  forest  to  Field.  881 

from  the  Apostolic  See"^ — is  of  itself  an  unanswerable  argu- 
ment. For  this  and  the  further  reasons  we  have  set  forth 
there  does  not  appear  to  us  in  the  domain  of  history  a  better 
authenticated  fact  than  the  Privilege  of  Adrian  IV.  to 
Henry  11. 

Sylvester  Malone. 


FEOM  FOEEST  TO  FIELD. 

I. 

Tills  a  mellow  afternoon  in  June.  The  western  smi  is 
jL  gilding  the  green  ivy  leaves  that  shyly  peep  around 
the  corner  of  the  squared-stone  window-sill  above  my 
desk.  An  Australian  magpie  is  warbling  its  sweet  flute-like 
scherzetto  on  the  decayed  branch  of  a  gum-tree  overhead, 
and  among  the  shrubs  and  hedges  underneath  the  sparrows 
nag  and  quarrel,  scattering  their  sharp,  fretful  notes  on  the 
calm  air.  Below  and  round  about  lies  our  town,  a  rising 
inland  centre  of  Western  Victoria.  It  is  a  typical  Australian 
provincial  town,  planned  and  built  to  suit  the  needs  of  a 
new  land  where  forests  abound  and  man  has  "  room  and 
verge  enough  "  for  all  his  enterprise.  Timber  is  the  prime 
favourite  as  a  building  material ;  brick  comes  in  a  bad 
second ;  squared  stone  treads  hard  on  the  heels  of  brick  ; 
and  the  homely  corrugated  iron  roof  shelters  the  great  bulk 
of  its  population  from  the  glow  of  the  summer  sun  and  the 
pelting  of  the  winter  rain.  The  houses  are  for  the  most 
part  of  the  severely  modern  and  utilitarian  form  known  as 
"  square  boxes  with  windows  in  them."  They  are  ranged  in 
blocks  almost  as  regular  as  the  squares  on  your  chess-board, 
along  streets  running  in  two  sets  of  parallel  lines,  that  cross 
each  other  at  right  angles,  like  the  stripes  of  colour  in  a 
Scotch  tartan.  To  European  eyes  our  town  wears  a  stiff, 
brand  new  look,  as  though  it  had  grown  up  in  the  silent 

1  Bullarimn  Romanum. 
VOL.  XIL  3  K 


882  From  Forest  to  Field. 

watches  of  yesternight  under  the  deft  hand  of  some  southern 
Goban  Seor.  There  is  no  *'rime  of  age  "  upon  it;  none  of 
the  subtle  halo  that  history,  legend,  and  fable  have  thrown 
round  many  a  quiet  hamlet  in  far-off  Wexford.  No  haunted 
gray  ruin  of  keep  or  abbey  stands  guard  above  it ;  no  belt  of 
mouldering  wall  tightlaces  its  growing  population  within  the 
limits  of  a  village  green.  Young  Australia  will  have  elbow- 
room  or  death.  The  very  sheep  and  cattle  roam  through 
paddocks  of  hundreds  or  thousands  of  acres  in  extent ;  the 
main  country  roads  measure  sixty-six  yards  from  fence  to 
fence  ;  and  the  streets  of  her  cities  and  towns  are  broad  and 
sunny  and  airy.  The  pulsing  heart  of  this  inland  centre  lies 
on  the  flat  below  me,  among  the  shops  and  offices  and  banks 
and  all  the  other  tools  and  tricks  of  Mammon.  Three  low, 
round-backed  hills  look  down  on  the  busy  flat.  They  are 
rivals  for  the  pride  of  place  and  fashion  and  general  respecta- 
bility. Up  their  sunny  slopes  lie  the  neat  gardens  and  the 
pretty  verandaed  houses  of  brick  and  stone,  where  live  our 
local  wealth  and  rank,- and,  generally,  *' everybody  that  is 
anybody  "  in  this  proud  and  flourishing  little  town.  On  the 
crown  of  the  slopes  stand  the  *'  show  "  buildings  of  the 
place :  the  three  principal  churches,  the  colleges,  and  the 
big  district  hospital,  on  whose  long  high-pitched  roofs  spire- 
lets  and  pinnacles  and  finials  bristle  like  quills  upon  the 
fretful  porcupine. 

Beyond  the  last  straggling  houses  and  narrowing  gardens 
of  the  town  a  fair  soft  landscape  lies  mellow  in  the  sun. 
Far  away  the  even  level  of  the  circling  horizon  is  broken  on 
the  east  and  south  by  the  blue  cones  of  two  extinct  volcanoes. 
Northwards  rise  the  tall  peaks  of  the  Serra  and  Victoria 
Banges,  jagging  the  sky-hne  like  the  teeth  of  a  dissipated 
saw.  Just  beyond  the  horizon-line — some  sixteen  to  twenty- 
two  miles  away — four  townships  "  set  "  around  us — as  the 
moons  around  Jupiter.  Between  us  and  our  satellites  'tis 
all  a  plain  :  not  the  dead  level  of  Kildare  and  Meath,  but  a 
surface  of  wavy  lines  rising  and  dipping  as  softly  as  the  long 
foamless  swell  that  pulses  in  the  fair  summer  time  beyond 
the  rock-bound  shores  of  Kilkee. 

This  rolling  plain  is  far  gone  in  the  toilsome  process  of 


From  Forest  to  Field.  883 

evolution  from  forest  to  field.  Some  of  the  old  wild  look 
hangs  romid  it  even  now ;  some  of  the  old  wild  nature  still 
lingers  in  its  bosom.  Take  away  the  restraint  of  man's 
presence — of  axe,  and  fire,  and  plough,  and  flock — and  in  two 
short  decades  yon  rich  pastoral  plains  would  be  a  green- 
tangled  wilderness,  as  they  were  in  1836,  when  Mitchell  first 
explored  these  fertile  western  wilds.  Over  the  billowy  miles 
still  grows  the  eucalyptus,  Australia's  principal  tree.  "  Gum- 
tree"  is  the  inapt  generic  title  given  to  it  a  century  ago  by 
the  first  Australian  colonists,  who  had  a  curious,  though 
pardonable  propensity  for  bestowing  inappropriate  names  on 
the  strange  flora  and  fauna  of  this  new  southern  land.  In 
vain  did  botanists  and  zoologists  introduce  in  later  days  a 
nomenclature  of  resounding  Greek  and  Latin,  and  suggest 
suitable  designations  in  the  vulgar  tongue.  The  old  names 
were  already  household  words.  The  hilarious  Great 'King- 
fisher {Dacelo  gigas)  still  remains  a  "  laughing-jackass;"  the 
flute-voiced  piping  crow  shrike  {Gmnorhina  tihicen),  a 
"  magpie  ;"  the  peaceful  leaf-eating  koala  (phascolarctus) ,  a 
"  native  bear ;"  the  vulpine  phalangist  an  *'  opossum ;  "^  and 
to  colonists,  learned  and  unlearned  alike,  the  eucalyptus  is 
colloquially  now  and  for  evermore  a  "  gum-tree."  Here  and 
there  on  the  plains  before  me  the  eucalyptus  still  grow  in  thick 
belts  and  patches  of  many  hundreds  of  acres.  Over  many  a 
stretching  mile  to  the  south  giant  stragglers  stand  defiantly 
above  their  fallen  mates  of  the  forest,  or  support  their 
wounded  comrades,  as  the  brave  Dalgais  did  long  ago  on  the 
plains  of  Ossory.  But  for  the  most  part  the  plains  have  lost 
their  tree-growth  in  great  bald  patches,  that  keep  ever- 
spreading,  spreading,  where  forty  years  ago  nature's  warm 
forest-tresses  were  thick  as  the  locks  of  Absalom.  'Tis  June, 
the  mild  southern  winter  has  set  in,^  and  the  eucalyptus  meet 

'  One  of  the  most  common  of  the  Australian  mammals  measuring  about 
two  feet  six  inches  from  snout  to  tip  of  tail.  It  lives  principally  on  the  leaves 
and  fruit  of  the  gum-tree,  and  is  nocturnal  in  its  habits.  Its  fur,  which  is 
very  much  prized,  is  exported  in  large  quantities  to  Europe.  Not  to  be 
confounded  with  the  American  opossum,  which  belongs  to  the  Entomophaya. 

2  In  this  part  of  Victoria  the  winter  is  very  mild.  Frosts  are  light, 
and  snow  is  very  rarely  seen  except  on  the  mountain  ranges.  The 
ordinary  noon-day  summer  heat  in  Victoria  ranges  from  85°  to  104°  P.  in 
the   shade.      During  the   prevalence   of  heat-waves  and  hot  winds,  the 


g84  From  Forest  to  Field. 

the  growing  cold  by  wrapping  their  bony  forms  in  a 
thickening  frieze-like  coat  of  bark.  When  October  brings 
the  breath  of  summer  back  again  they  will  peel  off  their 
rough  overcoat  in  long  strips,  and  cast  it  to  the  winds  ;  but 
through  all  the  cycle  of  the  seasons  they  retain  the  scant 
head-dress  of  horny  falcate  leaves,  which  (being  set  on  with 
vertical  plane)  give  but  a  thin,  speckled  shade  to  the 
stock  through  the  long  hot  days  from  December  to  March- 
Some  dyspeptic  European  has  nicknamed  the  gum-trees 
the  "  scarecrows  of  Australia."  It  is  true  that  many 
species  of  them  lack  the  sweeping  lines  and  the  masses  of 
light  and  shade  that  Constable  and  Turner  loved ;  yet,  patriotic 
young  Australia  finds  them  fairer  that  the  imported  oak  and 
lime  and  elm,  that  litter  the  streets  and  garden  paths  with 
fallen  autumn  leaves,  and  stand  naked  and  shelterless  when 
the  keen  wind  from  the  northern  deserts  moans  and  whim- 
pers across  the  plains.  Scarecrows  !  'Tis  too  sweeping  an 
epithet  to  fling  at  more  than  a  hundred  and  fifty  different 
species  of  myrtaceae,  that  present  such  endless  varieties  of 
form  and  height  and  density.  There  are  gum-trees  as 
rugged  and  spreading  as  your  tree-king,  the  oak ;  slim  and 
graceful  as  the  ash,  the  "  lady  "  of  your  northern  forests  ; 
drooping  as  the  willow  ;  densely  clad  as  the  elm,  and  raw- 
boned  as  a  windmill.  You  will  find  them  soft  and  fissile  as 
a  Scotch  fir,  and  so  hard  as  to  turn  the  edge  of  an  axe,  and 
withstand  a  triple  alliance  of  white  ant,  teredo,  and  chelura. 
They  range  in  height  from  the  dwart  mallee-scrub  (Eucalyp- 
tus dumosa)  to  the  mast-like  Euc.  amygdalina  (var.  Begnans) 
of  Gippsland  in  Eastern  Victoria,  the  Saul  of  forest  trees, 
the  tallest  vegetable-growth  on  the  surface  of  the  earth. 
Some  of  these  noble  trees  are  said  to  be  over  five  hundred 
feet  in  height.  One  colossal  specimen  still  standing  measures 
four  hundred  and  seventy-one  feet ;  another,  felled  on  the 

extremes  of  heat  in  the  shade  for  various  years  and  various  parts  of  the  colony 
have  been  103«,  104",  107°,  110«,  lll^,  114«,  II60,  117«.4,  120"  (Stawell). 
In  the  heat-wave  of  the  summer  1889-90  (described  in  I.  E.  Kecokd,  vol. 
xi.,  No.  8),  the  maximum  heat  in  the  sun  reached  176^  degrees  F.  (176.°5). 
Tlie  summer  heat  in  Victoria  is  dry,  and  though  uncomfortable  and 
enervating  when  it  reaches  extremes,  is  perfectly  bearable.  The  above 
figures  have  been  supplied  by  the  Government  Observatory,  Melbourne. 


From  Forest  to  Field.  885 

Black  Spur,  measured  four  hundred  and  eighty  feet,^  being 
thirty-two  feet  higher  than  the  top  of  the  cross  on  the  dome 
of  St.  Peter's  in  Kome,  and  out-topping  by  thirty  feet  the 
loftiest  of  the  famed  mammoth  trees  of  Calaveros  Grove  in 
California. 

Many  other  interesting  specimens  of  Australian  trees  dot 
the  plains  among  the  prevailing  growth  of  eucalyptus.  In 
the  poorer  soil  are  patches  of  the  dark-green,  showy-flowered 
native  honeysuckle  {Banksia  integrifolia) ;  clumpy,  graceful 
black  woods  {Acacia  melanoxylon)  ;  and  here  and  there  planta- 
tions of  dark-trunked,  phyllode-leaved  wattles  {Acacia, 
various) ,  which  supply  the  best  tan-bark  that  has  ever  turned 
rawhide  to  leather.^  There  are  also  plentiful  clusters  of  the 
dark,  leafless  sheoak  (which  is  not  an  oak,  but  a>  casuarina) ,  a 
weird,  sad-looking  tree,  covered  with  long,  hair-like  filaments, 
which,  at  the  softest  touch  of  the  zephyr,  set  up  a  low 
crooning,  dismal  as  the  night-wail  of  the  banshee. 

.II. 

This  mingled  scene  of  forest  and  field  is  a  pleasant 
change  for  eyes  that  long  have  looked  on  the  face  of  the 
goldfields,  with  their  cradles  and  windlasses,  their  tall 
chimneys  and  poppet  heads,  the  ceaseless  rumble  of  their 
quartz-crushing  batteries,  and  their  great  eruptive  patches 
of  gray  and  yellow  mullock  thrown  out  of  the  bowels  of  the 
earth  by  the  burrowing  gold-bug  man.  Here  in  the  West 
the  gold  fields  have  never  "broken  out."  There  are  no 
"indications,"  no  "washdirt,"  no  payable  gold-bearing 
quartz.  But  the  wealth  lies  on  the  surface,  after  all.  It  lies 
in  the  fat  soil,  in  the  deep  grass,  in  the  countless  "  mobs  "  ^ 
of  sheep,  whose  silky  fleeces  find  their  way  to  the  world's 
great  marts  when  shearing  time  is  over — each  October  and 
November.     For  Western  Victoria  is  a  rich,  fair  land.     Its 

^  Baron  von  Mueller,  Select  Extra-tropical  Plants,  page  145;  Wall, 
Physical  Geography  of  Australia,  page  127. 

^  One  and  a-half  pounds  oT  wattle  bark  do  the  work  of  about  five 
pounds  of  English  oak.     (Bonwick,  Australia,  page  61.) 
r     -  3  "'Mob"  is  almost  the  only  noun  of  multitude  used  by  the  average 
colonial  in  speaking  of  the  brute  creation. 


886  From  Forest  to  Field, 

first  explorer  (Mitchell)  styled  it  "Australia  Felix"  long 
before  a  divided  hoof  ever  trod  its  forest  glades.^  The  sweet- 
sounding  name  is  now  forgotten  or  disused,  but  it  still  stood 
on  certain  yellow  maps  some  twenty  years  ago,  when  "  a 
man  severe  and  stern  to  view  "  led  my  classmates  by  purga- 
torial paths  through  the  calculations  of  Gough  and  the  rules 
of  Lindley  Murray. 

"'  'Way  back  in  the  forties "  began  the  real  work  of 
settling  this  portion  of  the  West  Victorian  bush.  The  first 
squatter  and  his  "hands"  moved  slowly  and  cautiously 
hitherward  in  1838,  past  hostile  tribes  of  blacks,  depasturing 
his  stock  through  the  trackless  forest.  His  tools  and  stores 
were  in  a  dray,  drawn  by  a  long  team — or  rather  a  chain  gang 
— of  bullocks.  For  the  patient  steer  is  a  forest  pioneer. 
You  meet  him  where  the  woods  are  pathless,  and  the  tracks 
are  deep  in  mud,  and  a  long,  strong  pull  is  needed.  Time 
has  not  dealt  kindly  by  the  placid  steer.  Ages  ago  he  fed  in 
toilless  peace  by  Scamander's  yellow  tide,  and  Homer  sang 
his  great  soft  eyes  into  the  halls  of  high  Olympus.  His  eyes 
are  soft  and  dreamy  still,  I  ween;  but  fashion  has  changed. 
Steer  eyes  have  "gone  out:  "  the  fickle  Western  has  long 
ago  flung  them  into  the  lumber  room  of  discarded  poetic 
fancies,  while  the  more  conservative  celestial  clings  for  ever 
to  almond  eyes ;  the  faithful  Persian  still  sings  the  eyes  of 
Ali ;  and  down  a  long  perspective  of  centuries  the  constant 
Kalmuk  has  seen  all  the  beauties  of  nature  in  the  brown 
orbits  of  his  fat-tailed  sheep.  There  is  neither  poetry  nor 
romance  in  the  life  of  the  working  steer  in  this  new  land. 
His  neck  still  bears  a  barbarous,  ill-constructed  yoke,  that 
has  known  no  change  since  the  days  of  Sethi  and  Kameses. 
His  back  and  ribs  are  scored  and  cross-hatched  by  the  long 
rawhide  lash  of  the  "bullochy,"  whose  roulades  of  deep 
profanity  were  among  the  first  "civilised"  sounds  that  woke 
the  forest  echoes  of  Western  Victoria. 

The  early  squatter  "  trekked "  these  trackless  wilds  in 


1  There  are  no  hoofed  animals  indigenous  to  Australia.  The  only 
indigenous  mammals  (besides  the  dingo  or  wild  dog)  are  the  marsupials,  a 
few  bats,  rats,  and  mice.     (Lumholtz,  Among  Cannibals,  page  378.) 


From  Forest  to  Field.  887 

search  of  a  good  run  for  his  stock  :  to  wit,  plenty  of  grass, 
and,  if  possible,  a  constant  natural  supply  of  water.  When 
he  struck  "  good  country  "  he  took  out  a  grazing  license  for 
perhaps  some  fifty  thousand  acres,  from  which  no  white  man 
could  dispossess  him,  divided  his  stock  over  the  run  in  charge 
of  shepherds  or  stockmen,^  and  fenced  off  a  stockyard  and  a 
horse  paddock.  He  slept  under  such  cover  as  the  body  of 
his  dray  afforded,  or  in  a  sod  hut,  or  bark  gunyali,  till  his  run 
began  to  prosper.  Then  he  built  a  ''  regular  "  hut.  It  had 
a  formidable  chimney  of  rough  stone;  tall  tussock  grass 
covered  the  roof;  the  walls  were  upright  slabs  split  from  the 
gum-tree,  and  plentifully  loopholed  for  the  benefit  of  the 
unfriendly  cannibals  that  flitted  about  upon  the  run. 

Usually  there  was  a  lack  of  water  in  the  long  hot  summer 
days:  for  Australia  is  a  thirsty  land  compared  with  "  green 
Eire  of  the  streams;"  the  rivers  in  this  great  island-conti- 
nent are  few  and  far  apart,  and  for  the  most  part  owe  their 
flow  to  the  rain  clouds.  The  smaller  rivers  and  creeks 
(watercourses)  trip  merrily  down  their  beds  when  mountain 
and  plain  are  sodden  with  the  winter  rains ;  but  November, 
with  its  rising  mercury  and  lengthening  day,  puts  a  brake  on 
their  rapid  run.  They  creep,  crawl,  stop.  The  remnant  of 
their  waters  shrink  into  hidden  bends  and  quiet  nooks, 
where  they  sleep  under  the  lichened  rocks  and  the  drooping 
redgums  till  the  cool  breath  of  winter  wakes  them  once 
more. 

Away  underground,  beneath  the  rocks  and  the  roots  of 
the  gum-trees,  lies  the  great  riverland  of  Australia.  There 
the  brooks  go  on  for  ever,  and  the  rivers  flow,  dark  as  the 
tide  of  Lethe,  down  rocky  narrow  beds,  and  through  caverns 
such  as  we  read  of  in  the  scientific  dreams  of  Verne.  Not  more 
precious  to  Australia  are  its  gold-bearing  reefs  of  quartz  than 
are  these  sunless  streams.  Of  late  years  diamond  drills  are 
ever  tapping  them,  artesian  wells  are  drawing  them  up,  and 
their  liberated  tide  is  creating  many  a  Tadmor  in  many  a 
waterless  Australian  waste.     But  in  the  distant  "forties" 

1  One  shepherd  could  manage  1,000  to  1,500  sheep  ;  a  stockman,  with 
tlie  aid  of  a  boy,  could  manage  np  to  4.000  head  of  cattJe.  (Boldrewood, 
Old  Melbourne  Memories.) 


888  Fro7fi  Forest  to  Field. 

the  underground  rivers  were  unknown  or  undisturbed.  The 
squatter  in  these  Western  plains  had  to  stand  or  fall  by  the 
winter  flow  of  creek  or  river,  artificial  dams,  or  the  supply  in 
the  stagnant,  reed-grown  swamp.  In  summer  the  pools  in 
the  creek  or  river  bed  were  frequently  brackish.  The  water 
in  the  swamp  fell  as  the  thermometer  rose,  and  often  became 
a  soupe  maigre — a  thick  decoction  of  decayed  reeds  and  algae. 
To  the  parched  throats  of  sheep  and  cattle  the  saline  pools 
were  a  good  "stand  by;"  the  muddy  lees  of  the  swamp 
sweet  as  the  sparkling  wave  of  Arethusa.  From  the  same 
dark  source  their  owner  and  his  ''hands"  drew  deep 
draughts  of  the  bushman's  indispensable  drink — milkless 
"  billycan  "  tea  (for  the  days  had  not  yet  come  when  corru- 
gated iron  tanks  caught  the  sweet  rain  water  from  the  roof 
of  his  verandahed  cottage).  Boiling  killed  the  bacteria  and 
partly  precipitated  the  sediment ;  brown  sugar  disguised  the 
potent  flavour  of  decayed  marsh  weed  ;  toil  and  hunger  and 
thirst  gave  a  Spartan  relish  to  the  squeamish  "  black  broth," 
and  made  it  sweet  as  Souchong  brewed  in  distilled  water 
and  served  up  in  old  Nankin.  The  Australian  bushman  was 
no  more  a  Baron  Brisse  than  his  cousin  the  backwoodsman 
of  America.  His  bill  of  fare  was : — Tea,  mutton,  and 
damper ;  damper,  mutton,  and  tea  (with  rare  variations)  every 
meal  of  the  day,  every  day  of  the  week,  every  week  of  the 
year.^  Once  or  twice  a  year  there  came  a  change  in  his  menu — 
when  the  want  of  stores  or  the  sale  of  a  "  draft  "  of  sheep  or 
cattle  or  of  his  year's  "  clip  "  sent  him  to  Portland,  or 
Geelong,  or  far-off  Melbourne;  then  he  tasted  ''dishes." 
Perhaps  he  was  what  the  old  toast  refrain  calls  a  "  right 
good  fellow,"  whose  convivial  spirit  was  kept  under  hatches 
during  weary  years  of  exile  in  the  bush .  In  that  case  he 
probably  "sampled"  divers  "  nobler  s "  of  "tanglefoot" 
(ominous  name !)  or  "  longsleevers  "  of  colonial  beer,  or 
invited  all  and  sundry  to  "  name  their  pizen  "  at  the  bar  of 
the  "Magpie  and  the  Kangaroo."  These  were  the  worst 
escapades  of  our  Western  pioneers.     They  were  not  given  to 

^  On  cattle  stations  beef  took  the  place  of  mutton  in  the  above  bill  of 
fare.  "  Damper  "  is  flour  worked  into  dough  ^vith  ^yater  and  baked  wjtU 
enib^rs. 


From  Forest  to  Field.  889 

promiscuous  revolver  practice  or  bowie  knife  drill,  or  to  any 
of  those  gay  and  festive  pranks  which  (if  we  can  rely  on 
certain  humorous  writers)  constitute  what  is  termed  out 
west  in  America  "raising  Cain."  They  were,  as  a  rule, 
peaceful,  thrifty  citizens,  many  of  them  gentlemen  by  birth 
and  education.  Their  long  years  of  trial  and  privation  and 
exposure  in  the  bush  were  a  stern  self-discipline  that  taught 
them,  as  a  body,  to  bear  themselves  w^ith  the  dignity  of 
nation  makers. 

III. 

*'  Clearing  "  was  not  undertaken  on  a  large  scale  by  the 
early  settlers  till  later  years,  when  the  runs,  which  they  had 
previously  rented  from  the  Government,  became  their  own  by 
purchase.  The  thick  bush  and  scrub  encumbered  the  ground, 
and  kept  the  full  sunlight  from  the  herbage  that  the  sheep 
and  cattle  needed;  and  so  the  squatter  and  his  men  girded 
their  loins  to  the  slow  but  winning  toil  of  forest  taming. 
They  set  the  firebrand  to  the  dead  and  dry  a-nd  hollow 
timber.  The  mounting  flames  routed  the  marsupial  bear 
and  the  opossum  from  their  lairs,  and  turned  the  great 
trunks  to  ashes.  Felling  was  resorted  to  where  the  timber 
was  thick  and  green.  'Twas  "  sweaty  work,"  as  Hamlet 
saith — grim,  long-drawn  toil,  that  turned  a  few  thousand 
acres  of  forest  into  field  only  when  the  toiler's  hand  had 
grown  less  cunning  and  his  hair  and  beard  were  tinged  with 
gray.  For  many  a  year  the  axe  strokes  rang  through  the 
forest  like  the  blows  of  fate  or  the  pulse  of  time,  felling  the 
thick  growths,  clearing  the  scrub  where  the  dingo  howled 
and  the  marsupial  cat  watched  for  its  prey.  Miles  of  forest 
became  miles  of  stumps,  to  be  destroyed  by  fire  or  decay,  or 
dragged  from  the  earth's  embrace  by  bullock  teams,  or  forced 
out,  like  curious  molars,  by  the  strong  levers  of  the  stump 
extractor.  On  the  opener  forest  ground  "  ringbarking " 
gave  the  earth  all  the  air  and  light  it  needed.  A  band  or 
ring  of  bark  is  cut  away  roimd  the  trunk  of  the  tree  some 
two  feet  above  the  ground  ;  the  tree  dies,  the  bark  peels  off 
in  strips,  the  leaves  fall,  and  over  thousands  of  acres  to-day 
the   trunks   st^^nd  nake(^   ^nd    ghastly — a   spectre   forest — 


890  From  Forest  to  Field. 

waving  their  white  arms  in  the  breeze,  like  the  ghosts  of 
murdered  Banquos,  shaking  curses  on  the  air. 

In  the  early  forties  very  little  clearing  was  done  here, 
and  the  flocks  and  herds  were  watched  by  shepherds  and 
stockmen  in  the  glades  of  the  virgin  forest.  Flock-tending  in 
the  West  in  those  times  was  not  the  idyllic  pursuit  it  was  in 
the  days  when  Kamsay's  gentle  shepherd  carried  his  crook 
and  played  rippling  little  pastorals  upon  a  pipe.  The  bush- 
shepherd's  only  pipe  was  a  plain  but  precious  "  clay,"  black 
and  odorous  ;  his  crook,  a  rifle  or  shot-gun ;  for  the  squatter 
and  his  men  had  "  sat  down  "  in  the  heart  of  a  hostile 
country,  on  the  hunting-grounds  of  the  Australian  black. ^ 
They  were  face  to  face  with  a  mysterious  race,  full  of  the 
strange  contrasts  and  surprises  which  are  so  frequent  in  the 
fauna  and  flora  and  climate  of  this  southern  land.  Many 
ethnologists  give  the  Australian  aborigines  the  lowest  place 
in  the  mental  plane  of  all  the  children  of  Adam.  Possibly 
they  are  not  far  wrong.  The  "  black  fellows "  have  no 
history,  no  legends,  no  social  or  political  organisation,  no 
knowledge  of  agriculture.  In  their  "  native  "  condition  they 
are  divided  up  into  countless  small  tribes,  numbering  from  a 
hundred  to  a  few  hundred  souls,  each  tribe  roaming  within 
its  ancestral  hunting-grounds,  now  at  peace,  now  at  war, 
always  living,  like  the  hunted  stag,  in  hourly  dread  of  ambush 
and  attack.  They  have,  as  a  rule,  no  hereditary  chieftaincy. 
The  leadership  of  a  tribe  is  decided,  as  among  the  wild 
prairie  herd,  by  hardness  of  head  and  sheer  brute  force.  They 
are  polygamous  and  cannibals,  and  will  feast  not  only  on  the 
flesh  of  their  fallen  foe,  but  without  the  stress  of  hunger 
frequently  devour  the  bodies  of  their  own  murdered  children. 
Before  the  coming  of  the  white  man  they  knew  no  metal. 
A  homeless  race  :  they  camp  where  game  is  most  abundant, 
and  pass  the  summer  and  the  winter  nights  in  wretched  little 
open  mia-mias,  or  shelters  of  boughs,  twigs,  bark,  grass,  &c. 
They  have  no  yesterday  and  no  to-morrow,  living  for  the 

1  Full  and  very  interesting  information  about  the  Australian  blacks 
may  be  had  from  Dawson's  Australian  Ahorigines,  Carr's  Australian  Race, 
Beyeridge' Si  Aborigines  of  Victoria  and  /?a"(?n??a,  and  Lumholtz's  recent  work,. 
Among  Cannibals, 


Fro7n  Forest  to  Field,  891 

passing  hour.  To-day  their  chase  has  been  a  '*  a  run  of 
luck,"  and  they  gorge  themselves  with  wild  honey  from  the 
hollow  trees,  broiled  snake,  wild  ducks  or  geese,  killed  with 
the  boomerang  as  they  rose  from  the  swamp,  roast  opossum, 
haunch  of  wallaby,  and  tail  of  kangaroo.  All  is  religiously 
devoured  at  one  sitting.  To-morrow  and  the  next  day  they 
will  subsist  on  short  commons,  or  bear  the  pangs  of  hunger 
with  the  fortitude  of  Stoics.  None  of  their  many  languages 
contain  w^ords  to  express  abstract  ideas  or  numerals  beyond 
five.  Some  few  tribes  are  said  to  have  no  notion  of  a  Deity 
or  of  any  spiritual  being.  The  religion  of  others  is  summed 
up  in  a  wild,  vague  fear  of  Bunyip,  their  "  devil-devil  " — a 
hideous  monster  that  haunts  the  reedy  depths  of  some  dismal 
swamp.  On  the  other  hand,  tribes  have  been  found  in  New 
South  Wales  with  fairly  well-defined  religious  notions.  It 
is  even  said  that  some  of  them  held  a  doctrine  of  the  Trinity 
bearing  a  striking  resemblance  to  that  of  the  Christian 
religion.^  In  various  colonies  they  have  been  found  amen- 
able, especially  if  taken  young,  to  the  instructions  of  Catholic 
missionaries — the  only  white  men  who  have  ever  taken  a 
successful  practical  interest  in  the  eternal  lot  of  those  dark- 
skinned  forest  children. 

Mentally  the  "  black  fellow  "  is  supposed  to  be  at  the  foot 
of  the  human  ladder.  Yet  at  school  his  children  are  said  to 
absorb  learning  more  quickly  than  the  offspring  of  the  white 
man.  In  knowledge  of  woodcraft  he  far  surpasses  the  noble 
red  man.  His  senses  of  sight,  hearing,  and  smell,  are 
developed  to  an  extent  that  to  us  seems  almost  preternatural. 
This  strange  faculty  of  the  native  tribes  is  turned  to  good 
account  by  the  governments  of  all  the  Australian  colonies, 
who  employ  numbers  of  black  trackers  that  follow  up  the 
trail  of  criminals,  stolen  cattle,  &c.,  where  the  keen  eyes  of  a 
j avert  could  detect  no  clue,  nor  the  best  trained  bloodhound 
find  a  scent.  This  extraordinary  development  of  the  hunting 
sense  is,  perhaps,  not  to  be  wondered  at  in  a  savage  race  that 
for  centuries  found  itself  compelled  to  provide  its  daily  food 


1  Lumholtz,   Among    Cannihah^   pages  129,   183;   Transactions  of  the 
lloyal  Society  of  New  South  Wales,  1882. 


892  From  Forest  to  Field. 

with  defective  weapons.  Never  was  Sioux  or  Iroquois  so 
consummate  a  stalker  as  the  AustraHan  black.  His  trail  is 
faultless  as  a  sleuthhound's,  his  footfall  velvety  as  that  of 
your  fireside  tabby,  and  for  some  fifty  yards  his  spear  goes 
true  to  its  mark  as  Boer  bullet  or  Littlejohn  arrow.  He  has 
never  come  so  near  civilisation  as  to  invent  or  possess  a  bow, 
and  yet  his  strange,  elbow-shaped  weapon,  the  boomerang — 
which,  like  Thor's  hammer,  has  the  faculty  of  returning  to 
its  thrower — is  a  curiosity  and  puzzle  to  the  scientific 
world  } 

The  advent  of  the  squatter  generally  led  to  strained 
relations  with  these  dusky  forest  braves.  He  violated  frontier 
and  disturbed  vested  rights  when  he  **  sat  down  "  on  the 
black  man's  hunting-grounds.  He  and  his  few  "  hands  " 
were  scattered  over  many  miles  of  run,  circled  round  about 
by  relatively  numerous  enemies,  gifted  with  a  strategy  and 
cunning  that  made  their  spear,  nulla-nulla  (club),  and  war 
boomerang  well-nigh  a  match  for  the  rifle  and  revolver  of 
the  white  man.  Their  stealthy  attacks  and  clever  descents 
on  the  folds  compelled  some  of  the  first  squatters  in  this 
district  to  give  up  run  after  run.  In  time  the  steady  advent 
of  other  colonists  to  these  grassy  plains  gave  the  scattered 
whites  a  feeling  of  power  and  security.  Still,  the  "  black 
question"  long  remained  a  difficult  and  delicate  one.  The 
more  humane  and  sensible  whites — and  they  were  the 
immense  majority — adopted  a  policy  of  conciliation,  cautiously 
cultivated  the  good- will  of  the  black  man,  and  paid  occasional 
tribute  to  their  local  "  King  Billy  "  and  his  braves  in  flour, 
sugar,  tea,  "  backy,"  kitchen  refuse  and  old  hats.  In  return 
for  these  advantages  his  majesty  and  his  majesty's  men  were 
supposed  to  respect  the  shepherds  and  spare  the  flocks.     But 

1  This  surprising  weapon,  the  boomerang,  can  be  thrown  overtwo  hundred 
yards,  and  returns,  whirling  on  its  axis,  with  amazing  velocity  to  its  owner. 
It  can  kill  or  severely  injure  an  enemy  or  quarry  concealed  behind  a  tree, 
out  of  reach  of  spear,  and  commits  great  havoc  among  a  flight  of  wild-fowl 
rising  from  the  water.  A  vice-president  of  the  Royal  Society  said  that  "  its 
path  through  the  air  would  puzzle  a  mathematician."  Sir  Thomas  Mitchell, 
the  explorer,  adapted  its  principle  to  the  propulsion  of  ships,  and  The  Times, 
September  29th,  1852,  tells  how  the  "Boomerang  Propeller  "  attained  a 
speed  of  twelve  knots  an  hour  against  a  head  wind.     The  war  boomerang 


From  Forest  to  Field.  893 

the  black  man's  friendship  was  sHppery  and  uncertain  ;  his 
native  character  was  fickle;  his  childish  heart  "hankered 
arter  "  the  squatter's  sweet  sugar  cask  ;  his  eye  was  dazzled 
by  the  sheen  of  the  European  axe  and  tomahawk ;  his  teeth 
watered  for  the  "  white  man's  meat "  that  grazed  and  chewed 
the  cud  under  the  tall  gum-trees.  All  these  varied  treasures 
were  guarded  by  only  three  or  four  scattered  strangers,  and 
one  bold  stroke  would  win  them  all.  And  again :  was  not 
his  wild  anger  roused  at  times  by  the  outrages  and  vices  of 
the  rougher  station  "hands,"  many  of  whom  were  old  "lags  " 
from  the  convict  settlements  of  Van  Diemen's  Land;  so  there 
was  often  "trouble"  on  the  run.  Steers  were  missing, 
sheep  left  without  warning,  open  attacks  were  made  on  the 
white  man  by  day,  shepherds  or  hut-keepers  were  speared 
on  distant  parts  of  the  run.  One  morning  some  fourteen 
hundred  sheep  (value  then  about  £2  each^)  had  disappeared. 
An  armed  search  party  came  upon  the  blacks  feasting  on 
mutton  in  a  grassy  hollow.  The  missing  flock  lay  near  the 
camp  fires,  their  fore-legs  broken,  so  that  they  should  not 
stray  away  before  the  long  feast  of  "  white  man's  meat,"  was 
ended.  On  another  occasion  the  hind  legs  of  the  missing 
flock  were  dislocated  for  the  same  purpose  and  with  the  same 
result. 

In  circumstances  of  this  kind  even  the  friendly  squatter 
was  tempted  to  adopt  for  a  time  the  tactics  of  the 
less  numerous  and  rougher  school  of  colonists  whose  motto 
ran  :  "  the  only  way  to  civilize  the  black  fellow  is  to  civilize 
him  off  the  face  of  the  earth."  And  so  for  years  the  grue- 
some story  ran.  White  men  and  black  dropped  into  a 
vicious  circle  of  outrage,  cattle-spearing,  black-shooting, 
shepherd  slaying,  mutual  distrust  and  racial  hate.  Contact 
with  English-speaking  peoples  wrought  the  Australian  race  the 
same  ruin  that  it  has  brought,  or  is  bringing,  upon  every 
savage  people  that  has  come  under  their  sway  :  a  sharp  and 
painful  contrast  to  the  christianizing  and  conservative 
influences   which    Spain   and   other   Catholic   nations  have 


1  At  the  present  day  the  value  of  a  sheep  ranges  from  about  eight  to 
twelve  shillings. 


894  From  Forest  to  Field. 

exercised  on  the  aborigines  of  Central  and  South  America.^^ 
Even  in  the  cases  where  the  Austrahan  blacks  received  and 
returned  the  unvarying  friendship  of  the  white  man,  their 
ruin  was  no  less  certain.  With  a  strange  fatality  for  copy- 
ing the  worst  features  of  civilized  life,  they  delivered  them- 
selves over  to  a  frantic  love  for  fiery  drinks  and  white  men's 
vices,  which  in  a  few  years  wrought  woeful  havoc  in  the 
numbers  and  splendid  physique  of  the  Victorian  tribesmen. 
To-day  they  are  a  doomed  and  hopeless  race.  A  fast-decay- 
ing remnant  of  some  five  hundred  now  remain  (many  of  them 
half-castes)  living  in  six  stations  or  aboriginal  reserves 
established  and  managed  by  the  Victorian  Government.  In 
a  few  years  more  some  lone  survivor  of  the  Victorian  blacks 
will  follow  to  the  grave  the  last  of  his  Tasmanian  brethren, 
who  died  in  1872.  In  all  the  other  colonies  drink,  disease, 
and  other  causes  are  at  work  degrading  and  killing  off  the 
black  man,  and  it  is  only  a  question  of  time  when  the  only 
relics  of  this  strange  and  interesting  people  will  be  the 
skeletons  and  arms  that  line  the  museums  of  Europe  and 
Australia. 

IV. 

The  gradual  disappearance  of  the  black  man  did  not  end 
the  squatter's  troubles.  The  dingo,  or  waragal  dog,  still 
remained :  he  is  a  true  wild  dog,  reddish-brown  in  colour, 
almost  as  tall  and  powerful  as  the  wolf,  timid  and  cunning 
as  the  fox,  and  given  to  hunt  his  game  in  packs.  Like  the 
black  tribes,  each  pack  of  dingos  is  said  to  have  a  traditional 
hunting-ground,^  beyond  which  they  never  roam,  and  which 
they  preserve  from  invasion  by  neighbouring  packs  as 
jealously  as  the  aboriginal  tnbesman  guards  the  little  tract 
of  territory  which  the  custom  of  centuries  has  made  his  home. 
Before  the  coming  of  the  white  man  the  dingo  had  break- 
fasted, dined,  and  supped  principally  on  the  brownish-red, 

1  In  Mexico,  after  centuries  of  Spanish  occupation,  45  per  cent,  of  the 
population  are  of  purely  aboriginal  descent,  only  19  per  cent,  are  of  purely 
European  stock,  the  remaining  36  per  cent,  beijig  of  mixed  race,  {llevista 
Contemporanea,  15th  March,  1891.  See  also,  Cinq  Annees  de  Sejour  aux  lies 
Canaries,  par  Vernean,  Paris,  1891). 

2  Wall,  Physical  Geography  of  Australia^  page  145. 


From  Forest  to  Field  895 

hare-like  flesh  of  the  kangaroo.  The  settler's  flock  brought 
a  welcome  change  in  his  traditional  bill  of  fare :  for  even  a 
dingo  rehshes  a  little  variety  in  his  board.  Beside,  the 
Lincoln  and  Merino  were  more  easily  captured  than  the 
fleet-bounding  marsupial,  and  yielded  a  better  return  of  juicy 
flesh.  Sheep-hunting,  so  to  speak,  shortened  the  dingo's 
hours  of  labour,  and  at  the  same  time  gave  him  an  increase 
of  what  economists  call  his  real  wages.  So  they  flung  them- 
selves in  packs  upon  the  flocks,  and  delivered  themselves  up 
to  the  savage  instinct  which  they  have  in  common  with  their 
cousin  the  fox,  of  slaying  more  than  their  hunger  needed. 
Armed  shepherds  had  to  watch  the  sheep  by  day ;  at  night 
they  were  enclosed  in  hurdle  pens  and  guarded,  while  out- 
side the  bright  eyes  of  the  dingos  glittered  in  the  dark,  and 
their  dismal  yelpings  filled  the  air.  Shot  and  bullets  some- 
what thinned  their  ranks.  In  the  end  poisoned  carcasses  of 
sheep  left  their  handsome  bodies  strewn  in  scores  over  the 
runs,  and  so  reduced  their  numbers  that  at  present  only  a 
timid  few  are  to  be  found  within  many  a  league  from  where 
I  write. 

The  dingo  and  the  black  man  were  the  natural  enemies  of 
the  kangaroo  tribe.  For  centuries  they  had  exacted  a 
tribute  of  prey  that  kept  the  numbers  of  these  marsupials 
within  moderate  bounds.  Now  spear  and  fang  called  for 
victims  no  more.  Kangaroos  and  wallaby  multiplied  beyond 
measure  and  swarmed  in  thousands  on  these  Western  plains 
where  the  grass  was  softest  and  sweetest :  for  in  the  matter 
of  herbage  the  kangaroo  is  as  fine  a  gourmet  as  is  Brillat- 
Savarin  in  wines  and  meats.  They  "  ate  the  paddocks 
down,"  and  in  the  summer  days  the  sheep  went  lank  and 
hungry  over  the  closely-cropped  runs,  or  lay  down  to  die  like 
the  sick  hart  whose  forage  had  been  devoured  by  his  sympa- 
thetic forest  visitors.  Squatters  saw  that  their  runs  could 
not  support  two  "mobs,"  and  uttered  their  fieice delenda est 
■ — the  kangaroo  must  go.  They  ''laid  the  varmint  out" 
with  shot  and  ball.  They  ran  them  down  with  stock-dogs 
and  greyhounds  :  it  was  sport  for  kings,  as  their  quarry 
bounded  away  through  the  gum-tree  forest  and  over  the  rough 
log  fences;    but  it  was   decidedly  too   slow.      Something 


896  From  Forest  to  Field. 

wholesale  was  needed  to  wipe  the  noxious  marsupials  off  the 
face  of  the  earth.  Those  were  not  the  days  of  Nordenfelt 
and  Maxim  guns  ;  but  kangaroo  battues  served  their  purpose 
quite  as  well.  A  large  yard  was  made,  with  log  walls  some 
twelve  feet  high.  From  its  entrance  two  tall  log  or  brush- 
wood fences  ran  out  for  perhaps  two  miles,  splaying  rapidly 
like  the  arms  of  a  mighty  V,  whose  opening  (which  was  one 
and  a-half  or  two  miles  across)  faced  the  favourite  feeding- 
ground  of  the  kangaroos .  On  a  fixed  day ' '  all  the  neighbours ' ' 
from  forty  miles  around  came,  mounted  on  their  hardy, 
unshod,  bush  horses,  and  a  grand  battue  began,  surpassing 
in  excitement  the  historic  outings  of  Epping  and  Fontaine- 
bleau.  Eiders,  beaters,  gunsmen,  and  dogs,  went  far  afield 
(under  the  direction  of  '*  captains,"  chosen  for  their  knowledge 
of  the  run) ,  and  gradually  encircled  the  feeding  mob  with  a 
living  line,  each  end  of  which  rested  on  or  near  a  leg  of  the 
V-shaped  fence.  The  line  closed  in  and  in,  driving  the 
kangaroos  into  the  treacherous  embrace  of  the  arms  of  the 
"race"  (the  narrowing,  fenced-in  space),  down  which  the 
frightened  creatures  hopped  until  they  found  themselves 
bewildered  and  imprisoned  within  the  high  strong  walls  of 
the  yard.  A  wild  rush  of  men,  horses,  and  dogs  followed 
the  last  of  the  trapped  kangaroos.  The  entrance  to  the  yard 
was  secured;  the  riders  "hung  up"  their  horses;  and  all 
hands,  armed  with  clubs,  entered  the  yard  and  began  a 
woeful  slaughter.  As  many  as  three  thousand  two  hundred 
kangaroos  of  various  kinds  have  been  destroyed  on  one  day 
in  a  single  "  drive  "  on  a  station  not  many  miles  from  where 
I  write  :  wallabies  from  eighteen  to  twenty-four  inches  or 
more  in  height,  brush  kangaroos,  two  to  four  feet  high,  "old 
men  "  or  "  foresters  "  five  and  a-half  to  seven  and  a-half  feet 
high — formidable  fellows,  strong  enough  to  carry  a  man 
bodily  away  in  their  fore  "arms."^  The  third  toe  of  their 
hind  legs  is  armed  with  a  long,  sharp  nail,  used  by  the  male 
with  terrific  effect  when  brought  to  bay,  and  capable  of  rip- 
ping up  dog  or  man  like  the  point  of  a  sabre.  The  carcasses 
of  the  slain  were  left  to  fester  and  taint  the  air:  too  full  a 

^Amony  Cannibals^  page  328. 


From  Forest  to  Field.  897 

feast  for  even  the  omnivorous  Australian  crows,  that 
dropped  like  great  soot-flakes  from  the  sky  when  the  battue 
had  scarce  begun. ^ 

The  *'  drives  "  speedily  thinned  out  the  kangaroos  from 
the  open  plains  of  this  district.  They  are  numerous  still  in 
the  safe  retreats  of  forest,  scrub,  and  mountain  range,  and 
generally  on  all  the  less  thickly-populated  grasslands  over 
the  whole  continent.  They  are  the  principal  type  of  its 
fauna,  as  the  gum-tree  is  of  its  flora,  and  have  come  to  be  the 
recognised  national  emblem  of  Australia.  In  these  days  of 
museums,  zoological  gardens,  popularized  science  and  general 
education,  every  school  child  is  familiar  with  the  form  of  the 
kangaroo ;  but  in  the  early  days  of  these  colonies  the  first 
sight  of  the  great  uncouth  **  forester  "  in  his  native  wilds 
filled  the  unsophisticated  *'newchum"  with  feelings  of 
dismay.  In  1771  Captain  Cook's  sailors  came  back  to  him 
in  white-faced  terror,  declaring  that  they  had  seen  the  very 
demon  himself  hopping  away  into  the  forest  on  his  two  hind 
legs.  Many  years  ago  a  newly-imported  Scotch  shepherd 
burst  precipitately  into  the  men's  hut  on  a  station  in  this 
mission,  barred  the  door  behind  him,  and  in  quavering 
accents  told  his  assembled  '*  mates  "  of  a  fearful  something 
he  had  seen,  which  ''  gaed  hap,  hap ;  it  wasna  a  coo,  it  was 
na  a  horse,  but  it  had  a  tail  verra  like  the  deevil's." 

To-day  the  kangaroo  is  lord  of  the  run  no  longer.  The 
worst  enemies  of  the  squatter's  flocks  and  herds  are  now 
disease,  the  bush  fires  that  yearly  burn  up  tens  of  thousands 
of  acres  of  precious  grass,  and  the  rabbits,  that  have  come 
to  be  a  devouring  plague,  which  neither  trapping,  shooting, 
poisoning,  smothering,  digging  out,  "  driving,"  legislation, 
nor  the  most  drastic  resources  of  science  and  civilisation 
have  succeeded  in  evicting  from  their  home  in  Australian 
soil.  In  this  colony  droughts  are  rare  and  of  short  duration. 
Among  our  neighbours  they  are  more  frequent,  and  some- 
times last  through  two  or  three  years — long-drawn  agonies 

1  In  Queensland  the  kangaroo  has  become  a  noxious  animal,  and  the 
Government  has  put  a  price  upon  its  head.  This  premium  system  reduced 
the  number  of  these  marsupials  by  six  millions  in  the  years  1880-'85. 
{Among  Cannibals,  page  380.) 

VOL.  XII.  Ij 


898  From  Forest  to  Field. 

that  eat  up  the  toil  and  profits  of  years,  and  leave  vast  areas 
dotted  over  with  the  walking  skeletons  and  festering  car- 
casses of  sheep  and  cattle.  Starving  lots  of  sheep  have  been 
sold  at  sixpence  per  head,  and  an  instance  is  cited  by 
Comettant  in  which  a  flock  changed  hands  at  the  rate  of  a 
penny  each.^  Here  in  Western  Victoria  there  is  just  enough 
of  shadow  in  the  squatter's  life  to  remind  him  that  Arcady  the 
Blest  is  lost  for  ever.  Many  of  our  pioneers  are  with  us  still 
— grizzled  old  veterans  who  felled  the  forest  and  made  the 
field,  and  saw  the  towns  spring  up  and  grow  upon  the  plains. 
The  first  white  woman  that  settled  in  this  colony  still  lives 
not  many  blocks  away,  hale  and  happy  and  seventy-foar. 
Out  on  the  rolling  plains  the  gunyas  and  slab  huts,  that 
sheltered  the  squatter  in  the  "forties"  have  grown  into  fine 
*'  stations,"  with  their  gardens,  stores,  offices,  and  great 
woolsheds,  in  each  of  which  ten  thousand  to  a  hundred 
thousand  sheep  lose  their  soft  fleeces  when  November  brings 
the  long  southern  summer  days.  Bound  about  the  station 
lie  its  tens  of  thousands  of  grassy  acres,  divided  into  great 
paddocks  by  post  and  rail  or  wire  fences,  which  have  replaced 
the  log  and  brush  and  "dogleg"  obstacles  of  former  days. 
The  green  plains  are  cut  up — like  towns  on  a  big  scale — into 
great  blocks  of  many  square  miles,  and  allotments  of  a  few 
hundred  acres.  These  are  bounded  by  a  loose  woof  and 
warp  of  broad  roads,  crossing  each  other  at  right-angles,  and 
looking  on  the  map  like  the  threads  of  a  coarse  strainer. 
Over  this  network  of  roads  the  railway  lines  run  as  they  list, 
pa.st  the  rising  towns  that  stand  on  the  old  hunting-grounds 
where  the  blackman's  footfall  is  heard  no  more.  And  half  a 
generation  has  done  it  all. 

This  is,  roughly,  the  story  of  how  some  four  thousand 
square  miles  of  Western  Victoria  were  evolved  from  wood  to 
field.  It  is  more  or  less  the  history  of  forest-taming  in  every 
part  of  the  Australian  continent. 

H.  W.  Cleary. 

1  Au  Fays  des  Kangourous,  page  104. 


[    899    1 


ILLUSTKATIONS     OF     THE    PASSION,    FEOM 
LITEKATUKE  AND  THE  DEAMA. 

1.  The  Chkist,  the  Son  of  God  :  a  Life  of  our  Lord 
AND  Saviour  Jesus  Christ.  By  the  Abbe  Constant 
Fouard.  Translated  by  G.  F.  X.  Griffith.  In  two 
Volumes.     London  :  Longman,  1891. 

2.  The  Passion-Play,  as  it  is  played  to-day  at  Ober- 
Ammergau,  in  1890.  By  WiUiam  Stead.  London : 
Mowbray  House,  1890. 

THE  nineteenth  century,  amongst  much  for  which  it  is 
responsible  in  causing  indifference,  if  not  positive 
hostility,  to  the  facts  and  truths  of  our  holy  religion, 
deserves  credit  also  for  much  which  is  conducive  to  Christian 
instruction,  edification,  and  piety.  In  two  different  ways, 
and  by  two  different  means,  the  average  Christian  may  be 
influenced  by  the  effects  of  our  composite  civilization,  in  the 
latter  direction,  for  his  good.  These  ways  and  means  con- 
sist— first,  in  the  results  obtained  by  critical  science  and 
discovery ;  and  secondly,  in  the  application  of  such  research 
and  science,  either  in  the  printed  pages  of  a  theological 
treatise,  or  histrionically  on  the  stage,  in  sacred  drama.  If 
to  these  two  claims  upon  our  gratitude  be  added  the 
material  aids,  not  only  for  securing,  but  also  for  utilizing  and 
distributing  these  elements  of  sacred  knowledge,  which  are 
open  to  the  Church  of  to-day,  the  modern  spirit  of  the  nine- 
teenth century  will  not  appear  so  wholly  anti-Catholic  as  it 
proves  itself  to  be  under  other  conditions. 

Perhaps  in  no  former  century  could  a  volume  comparable 
to  the  Abbe  Fouard's  Life  of  Christ  be  made,  within  its  own 
limits,  so  all-embracing  and  exhaustive.  Certainly,  never 
before  has  the  Passion-Play  at  Ober-Ammergau  been  enacted 
with  such  elaborate  modern  appliances  for  effectiveness. 
The  work  of  the  Abbe  is  by  no  means  the  first  of  the  lives  of 
our  Lord  drawn  upon  similar,  though  not  on  the  same,  lines 
of  construction.  The  drama  of  Joseph  Mayer  and  his  fellow 
actors  is  almost,  if  not  quite,  the  last  indirect  descendant  of 


900  Illustrations  of  the  Passion, 

the  ancient  moralities  and  mysteries  of  the  Middle  Age. 
But,  they  both  owe  untold  obligations  to  the  intellectual 
activity  and  to  the  physical  developments  of  the  present 
day.  The  dramatic  performance  could  not  have  been 
produced  with  all  the  perfection  of  modern  art,  taste,  and 
skill ;  could  not  have  been  subjected  to  world-wide  criticism 
(which  presupposes  an  equal  range  of  influence) ;  could  not 
have  been  presented  to  such  cosmopohtan  audiences,  in  a 
former  century.  The  fruits  of  Abbe  Fouard's  historical  and 
biographical  labours — written  in  France,  translated  in 
America,  published  in  England,  and  read  wheresoever  the 
two  great  languages  are  spoken — two-thirds  of  whose  quoted 
works,  and  one-half  of  whose  quoted  authors,  date  from  the 
present  century — could  hardly  have  been  made  so  complete, 
and  have  become  so  easily  accessible,  apart  from  the 
adventitious  aid  of  the  printing-press,  the  steam-engine,  and 
the  post-office. 

Both  the  drama  and  the  volume  treat  of  one  subject — 
the  first  entirely,  and  the  last  partially — the  story  which 
has  transformed  the  world.  Each  may  be  approached 
from  a  different  side,  and  each  may  be  made  to 
minister  to  a  different  aspect  of  the  same  great  historical 
event,  or  series  of  events.  In  the  play  of  the  Ammergau 
peasants  we  may  see  reproduced,  by  living  actors,  the  fourfold 
Gospel  story  of  the  Passion,  woven  into  one  continuous, 
harmonious,  and  simple  whole,  so  plainly  depicted,  that 
whosoever  witnesses  may  realize  the  sacred  drama.  In  the 
printed  volume  of  the  learned  theologian  we  may  see  written 
in  indehble  characters  of  a  living  language,  and  with  all  the 
scholarly  helps  of  which  the  inspired  record  is  patient,  the 
Passion  of  Christ  as  depicted,  to  use  a  single  wide-reaching 
term,  in  the  tradition  of  the  Church. 

To  both  these  aspects  of  the  Passion  it  is  proposed  to 
devote  a  few  pages  of  comment.  In  the  first  place,  an  effort 
will  be  made  to  show  to  how  large  an  extent,  and  in  how 
many  ways,  the  Gospel  history  is  repeated  in  the  latter 
hours  of  it,  in  antitype  or  reality,  by  comparison  or  contrast, 
as  depicted  at  Ammergau :  and  how  much  may  be  learned 
by  the  ordinary  spectator,  critically  following  the  lead  of  the 


from  Literature  and  the  Drama.  901 

drama,  who  has  either  assisted  at  it  directly,  as  a  favoured 
witness  of  the  enactment,  or  who  has  mastered  its  details 
through  the  testimony  of  others.  Next,  in  a  second  article, 
the  story  of  the  Passion  will  be  considered  from  another 
aspect,  which  may  be  best  described  almost  in  Abbe  Fouard's 
words.  The  Passion,  as  he  has  treated  it,  as  a  portion  of 
the  Life  of  Christ,  is  an  act  of  faith.  Controversy  and 
criticism  are  equally  far  banished  from  his  pages-  The 
authenticity,  inspiration,  and  veracity,  of  the  Gospels  arc 
simply  accepted  without  proof.  A  history  of  the  Passion 
has  been  written,  gathered  from  the  Evangelists,  by  com- 
paring the  four  holy  witnesses,  and  showing  how  their 
narratives  explain  and  confirm  each  other — as  any  other 
history  would  be  written  were  the  author  absolutely  and 
infallibly  assured  of  the  truthfulness  of  his  documents. 
But,  more  than  this  has  been  done  in  the  work  in  question. 
Never,  says  the  author,  has  the  East  been  better  known. 
The  Aramaic  paraphrases,  the  Targum,  the  works  of  Jewish 
writers,  Talmudic  and  Eabbinical  traditions,  Hebrew  anti- 
quities, these  sources  of  exegesis  have  been  utilized  :  and 
who  does  not  see  the  advantages  offered  by  such  stores  of 
knowledge  ?  But  not  the  least  valuable  feature  in  Abbe 
Fouard's  work  is  the  use  which  he  has  made  of  the  various 
readings  and  glosses  of  the  older  codices  and  versions  of 
Gospels,  which  modify,  expand,  limit,  change,  qualify,  or 
even  occasionally  alter,  the  meaning  conveyed  by  the 
Keceived  Text,  or  the  Authorised  Version,  whether  Catholic 
or  Protestant. 

I.  Many  persons  keep  the  Passion  of  Christ  as  a  topic  for 
meditation  in  the  forty  days  of  Lent,  and  contemplate  its 
scenes,  sub-divided  into  the  like  number  of  daily  portions. 
Some  persons  keep  the  Passion  for  special  consideration 
during  the  last  fortnight,  or  the  last  week  of  Lent,  in 
Passion-tide  or  Holy  Week.  Some  concentrate  thought  upon 
its  awful  realities  within  the  limits  of  a  single  day  in  the 
year — the  anniversary  of  Calvary  and  its  events.  Others 
formally  and  scientifically  meditate  on  this  subject  not  at 
all.     On  the  other  hand,  the  Passion  of  Jesus  forms  the 


902  Illustrations  of  the  Passion, 

life-long  contemplation  of  many — sinners  and  saints  alike.  It 
might  be  made  the  life-long  meditation  of  everyone.  Perhaps 
it  ought  to  be  so  made.  For  its  story,  rightly  told  and 
devoutly  understood,  contains  all,  or  nearly  all,  which  men 
must  believe  ;  all,  or  nearly  all,  which  men  may  hope  for ; 
all,  or  nearly  all,  that  men  do  love.  And  the  history  of  the 
Passion  is  set  forth  at  Ammergau,  before  the  eyes  of  the 
world — and  the  uninvited  response  of  the  world  is  a  striking 
testimony  in  this  age  to  Christianity — in  a  book  which  all 
who  run  may  read.  The  Passion,  in  all  its  manifold  details, 
is  here  made  a  spectacle  to  angels  and  to  men,  under 
conditions  which  have  never  been  previously  fulfilled,  and 
which  have  hardly  been  previously  possible,  in  the  course  of 
the  Passion-Play's  chequered  career.  For,  the  play  is  now 
made  accessible  to  all  in  civilized  Europe — it  may  be  said  to 
all  in  civilized  America  and  Australasia — who  care  to  witness 
the  sacred  drama,  and  can  afford  the  time  and  cost  of  travel 
— with  cheapness,  convenience,  and  comfort.  It  is  performed 
with  outward  accessories  of  scenery,  of  costume,  of  appliances, 
of  competent  actors,  which  in  their  combination  are  obtain- 
able only  in  the  latter  half  of  the  nineteenth  century.  It 
is  rendered — most  ably  rendered — with  all  the  traditional 
knowledge,  reiterated  experience  and  persevering  training, 
in  word  and  deed,  in  delivery,  posture,  and  gesture,  of 
eight  or  ten  generations.  It  is  still  rendered  with  the 
simplicity,  power,  and  grace,  to  which  all  who  have  written 
of  it  in  the  past  bear  generous  testimony,  and  on  which 
eye-witnesses  in  the  present  day  are  nearly  mianimous. 
And  it  is  both  undertaken  and  carried  out  with  the  piety  and 
devotion  of  lives  dedicated — so  far  as  the  conditions  of  the 
case  admit  of  such  dedication — to  the  labour  and  toil,  with 
their  attendant  rewards,  of  its  not  unworthy  reproduction. 

Hence,  a  pilgrimage  to  Ammergau — to  one  who  will 
undertake  the  pilgrimage  in  a  temper  in  harmony  with  the 
spirit  that  inspires  the  sacred  playwrights — is  an  event  in  a 
man's  life,  be  he  young  or  old.  It  is  comparable  in  religion 
to  two  other  pilgrimages  only.  It  is  comparable  to  a  visit 
to  the  Holy  Land,  and  to  the  actual  and  traditional  sites 
and  scenes  consecrated  by  our   Saviour's  presence  in  the 


from  Literature  and  the  Drama.  903 

days  of  His  divine  manhood — the  effect  of  which,  if  made  in 
youth,  is  never  effaced.  It  may  be  compared  also  in  its 
results,  not  in  its  details,  to  a  sojourning,  as  an  adult,  and  for  a 
while,  in  the  Eternal  City.  For,  at  Eome,  the  history  of  the 
ages — ancient,  mediaeval,  and  modern — stamped  upon  its  hills 
and  printed  on  its  stones,  only  awaits  the  student's  attention 
to  be  grasped,  in  order  to  record  the  life  of  the  Church 
at  the  central  point  of  its  existence.  The  Passion-Play  does 
as  much  for  the  Catholic  critic  and  historian  of  the  New 
Testament  as  a  pilgrimage  to  Jerusalem  or  as  a  residence 
in  Kome  does  for  the  Christian  and  secular  student.  It  does 
more  for  the  devotional  and  affective  side  of  human  nature 
in  its  more  pious  moments.  A  man  may  have  studied  the 
Passion  of  Jesus — historically,  critically,  even  devotionally — '- 
for  years.  He  may  have  been  called  in  the  past  to  write,  speak; 
or  meditate  upon  it,  in  public  or  on  his  knees.  It  may  have 
been  made  by  him  more  or  less  of  a  Hfe-study,  in  this  over- 
exacting  and  most  distracting  and  dissipating  age.  Yet,  he 
will  not  be  ashamed  to  say — nay,  he  will  feel  ashamed  not  to 
own — that  he  has  learnt  much,  very  much,  more  than  he  can  at 
once  express,  or  even  at  first  realize,  at  Ammergau.  He  will 
admit  that  he  has  benefitted  largely,  widely,  deeply,  both  as 
critic  and  as  Christian,  from  the  simple  religious  peasantry 
of  the  Bavarian  highlands,  in  their  religious  and  almost 
perfect  rendering,  ever  old  but  ever  new,  of  the  world's 
great  tragedy.  Or,  rather,  and  more  precisely,  if  he  be  a 
modest  man,  he  will  return  frank  and  ungrudging  thanks  to 
those  hardy  villagers.  He  will  thank  those  aristocrats  of 
nature,  those  gentlemen  and  women — for  generations  refined 
and  cultured  by  the  practice  of  sacred  art — whose  histrionic 
rendering  of  the  Passion  has  alone  been  preserved  in  its 
integrity  from  early  times,  on  the  principle  of  the  survival  of 
the  fittest.  He  will  gladly  confess  that,  for  the  first  time  in 
his  life,  and  apart  from  the  clang  of  textual  criticism  and 
from  the  discord  of  biblical  harmonists,  he  has  seen  with  his 
own  eyes,  and  heard  with  his  own  ears,  a  living,  breathing, 
moving  commentary ;  aconsistent,  continuous,  and  complete 
narrative — in  action,  in^  gesture,  and  in  expression — of  the 
Passion  of  Christ.     And,  without  critically  binding  himself, 


904  Illustrations  of  the  Passion, 

as  a  humble  student  of  the  Bible,  to  all  the  mnoceDt,  if  not, 
under  the  circumstances,  to  all  the  necessary,  liberties  taken 
with  the  sacred  text — whether  of  addition,  omission,  or 
change — he  will  gratefully  admit  more.  He  will  admit  that 
much  which  was  formerly  obscure  in  the  Gospel  narrative 
has  now  been  made  clear ;  and  that  much  which  was  always 
plain  has  here  been  made  transparent,  or  has  been  empha- 
sized and  brought  into  relief.  He  will  allow,  perhaps,  that 
some  of  the  types  and  some  of  the  figures  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment in  the  Old  have  had  imparted  Jo  them,  at  Ammergau, 
a  new,  striking,  and  unexpected  fulfilment.  He  will  allow, 
certainly,  that  some  facts  and  words,  some  events  and 
positions,  some  references  and  hints,  have  appeared 
altogether  in  a  new  light.  And  he  will  not  deny  that  many 
curious  points  and  nice  coincidences  not  previously  observed, 
or  only  half  realized,  in  the  past,  have  become  consciously 
important,  or  clearly  essential,  to  the  full  and  right  under- 
standing of  the  sacred  text. 

These  are  some  of  the  results,  and  they'are  by  no  means 
the  most  important  results,  which  may  fairly  be  expected  to 
ensue  to  one  who,  with  mind  open  to  impressions,  and  heart 
not  closed  against  influences,  have  made  g^n  intelligent  and 
religious  pilgrimage  to  Ammergau. 

But  more  than  this  may  be  reasonably  looked  for  from 
the  visit  which  is  here  contemplated.  Of  course,  in  all  such 
cases  the  law  applies — to  him  that  hath  shall  be  given. 
The  more  a  visitor  takes  to  the  Passion-Play,  the  more  he 
will  carry  away  with  him :  the  greater  the  preparation,  the 
greater  the  gain.  And  there  is  one  form  of  preparation 
that  is  open  to  every  pilgrim  which,  perhaps  more  than  any 
other,  will  fit  him,  not  only  to  enjoy  the  sacred  representation 
as  a  spectacle,  but  to  enter  into  its  spirit  with  intelligence. 
The  intending  visitor,  no  doubt,  will  have  procured  and  read 
much  of  the  ephemeral  literature — one  work  only  of  which 
heads  the  present  article — which  suddenly  sprang  into 
existence  in  English  on  the  occasion  of  the  last  performance 
of  the  play.  And  from  some  of  these  booklets  or  pamphlets 
he  will  obtain  much  information  that  will  prove  of  value  to 
him — from  all  he  will  gain  something  that  will  be  of  use. 


from  Literature  and  the  Drama.  905 

The  most  serviceable  handbook,  however,  to  the  play,  is  the 
New  Testament  itself ;  and  the  most  profitable  method  of 
studying  that  handbook  is  to  gain  a  mastery  of  the  inspired 
account  which  it  contains  before  a  start  is  made  for 
Ammergau.  And  by  mastering  the  threefold  or  fourfold 
account  of  the  Passion,  is  not  meant,  in  this  place,  pouring 
over  second-hand  commentaries — second-rate  was  the  term 
nearly  used.  Bather,  such  mastery  may  be  had  by  honestly 
studying  the  text  of  the  New  Testament  itself;  by  making  a 
mental  or.  physical  map  of  its  story — far  better,  with  all  its 
mistakes,  than  one  made  by  another ;  by  creating  a  rough 
harmony  for  oneself ;  and  by  noting  the  repetitions, 
omissions,  and  singularities  which  mark  each  of  the  inspired 
synoptical  records,  or  of  the  supplementary  narrative  by  the 
author  of  the  fourth  Gospel. 

To  effect  this  in  an  English  translation,  for  the  purpose 
of  following  with  intelligence  the  acts  of  the  Passion- 
Play,  is  by  no  means  a  difficult  task.  It  is,  indeed,  com- 
paratively speaking,  easy  :  for,  without  altogether  ignoring 
many  wide  fields  of  New  Testament  exegesis,  the  student 
may  lightly  pass  over,  for  the  moment,  the  critical,  the 
dogmatic,  the  historic,  and  the  typological  explanations 
of  the  sacred  text,  and  may  confine  his  attention  to  the 
very  letter  of  the  Gospels  as  placed  in  his  hands,  in  the 
vernacular,  by  holy  Mother  Church.  No  doubt  several  of 
the  temporarily  ^discarded  aspects  of  the  New  Testament 
will  be  forcibly  presented  to  his  mind,  again  and  again,  as 
the  play  progresses — specially  the  typological  and  the 
historic.  He  will  accept  all  that  he  is  mentally  offered; 
but,  he  will  not  be  permanently  distracted  from  his  main 
object.  And  his  main  object  will  be  this,  namely,  to  follow 
literally  the  lead  of  the  text  of  the  drama  ;  and  to  observe — 
what  he  cannot  fail  to  observe  in  the  course  of  its  develop- 
ment— how  large  a  portion  of  it  is  a  reproduction,  more  or 
less  exact,  and  in  some  one  of  many  forms,  of  the  Gospel 
story  of  the  life  of  Christ.  This  aspect  of  the  Passion-Play 
may  be  explained  at  greater  length  somewhat  as  follows. 

II.  As  the  New  Testament,  rightly  understood,  may  be. 
described  as  an  epitome  of  our  holy  religion,  in  a  narrative,. 


906  Illustrations  of  the  Passion, 

memorial,  or  epistolary  form  ;  so,  the  Gospel  account  of  tlie 
Passion  may  be  considered,  both  abstractedly  and  in  the 
concrete,  as  an  epitome  of  the  New  Testament  itself.  There 
is,  indeed,  a  very  Gospel  in  the  Passion  story.  Apart  from 
the  almost  endless  questions  touching  the  fourfold  inter- 
pretation of  Scripture,  in  any  given  passage,  there  is  scarcely 
a  leading  event,  or  a  word  of  teaching,  in  the  New  Testament 
which  does  not  find  an  actual  or  typical  counterpart  in  the 
records  of  its  concluding  pages  on  the  Passion  of  Christ. 
The  closing  scenes  of  the  life  of  our  Lord  appear,  to  repro- 
duce, more  or  less  clearly,  the  story  of  His  sacred  infancy,  of 
His  childhood,  of  His  three  years'  ministry.  And  such 
reproduction  is  found  in  many  various  shapes,  whether  in 
repetition  or  reflection,  by  fulfilment,  as  a  parallelism,  or  by 
comparison,  or  by  contrast.  Some  critics  of  the  Ammergau 
Play  have  allowed  themselves  to  remark  that  the  types  of 
the  Old  Testament  history  which  serve  as  material  for  the 
tableaux  preceding  each  act  of  the  sacred  drama,  are  novel 
to  them,  far-fetched  in  idea,  or  intrinsically  unreal.  Not  to 
enter  into  the  wide  topic  of  typology,  it  may  be  observed 
that  such  superficial  students  would,  perhaps,  be  surprised 
to  find  how  large  a  portion  of  the  story  of  the  Passion  has 
been  anticipated,  not  indeed  in  the  Old  Testament,  but  in 
the  earlier  chapters  alone  of  the  Gospel ;  and  how  much  of 
the  Passion  story  is  only  a  completion,  in  the  various  senbcs 
above  indicated,  of  the  Gospel  narrative. 

It  may  be  pointed  out  to  these  and  others,  in  the  merest 
outline,  and  in  but  a  very  few  of  the  cases  which  crowd  the 
memory  as  one  witnesses  the  Ammergau  rj^^^rpsentation, 
that  the  Gospel  of  the  Passion  contains,  directly  or  indnectly, 
but  in  miniature,  the  more  part  of  what  we^believe,  of  what 
we  hope  for,  of  what  we  love.  The  Passion  story  holds,  as 
it  were,  in  solution,  the  elements  of  Catholic  faith,  of  Catholic 
aspiration,  of  Catholic  sentiment.  Read,  for  example,  those 
marvellous  four  chapters  of  St.  John's  Gospel — the  14th  to 
the  17th — chapters  which  contain  the  last  formal  dogmatic 
teaching  recorded  of  Christ  to  the  Apostolic  college  :  and  say, 
if  the  divine  Master's  final  discourse  may  not  be  regarded 
as  an  epitome  of  the  New  Testament  as  a  religion  of  faith. 


jrom  Literature  and  the  Drama,  907 

In  these  chapters,  amongst  other  eternal  truths,  do  we  not  find 
the  enunciation  of  these  articles  of  the  Christian  faith — the 
Fatherhood  of  God,  the  consubstantiality  of  the  Eternal 
Word,  the  office  and  work  of  the  Comforter,  who  proceedeth 
from  both  Divine  Persons  ?  Consider  the  acts  and  words  of 
the  Passion,  as  detailed  by  each  several  Evangelist ;  and 
say,  whether  or  not,  amidst  other  good  things  that  we 
desiderate,  now  or  hereafter,  much  that  we  hope  for  be  not 
either  obviously  stated,  or  not  obscurely  suggested  ?  For 
instance,  these  points  may  be  named  :  God's  greater  glory ; 
man's  eternal  good  ;  the  love  of  the  Christian  brotherhood  ; 
the  salvation  of  our  own  soul;  and  the  final  end  of  man's 
creation  and  of  man's  redemption,  his  absolute  union  and 
oneness  with  his  Creator  in  the  future.  Or,  take  the  Gospel 
story  in  all  its  simplicity  and  in  all  its  fulness,  and  declare  if 
it  does  not  overflow  with  record  and  teaching  of  all  that  we 
ought  to,  and  of  all  that  we  do,  most  deeply  reverence  and  love  ? 
For,  does  it  not  contain  a  memorial,  in  terms  true  without 
error  or  mistake,  definite  without  exaggeration  or  suppres- 
sion, exact  without  essential  addition  or  material  omission, 
in  detail  as  well  as  in  outline,  of  the  Passion  of  Jesus  our  Love, 
as  well  as  of  Jesus  our  Lord,  who,  under  Pontius  Pilate  the 
Governor,  for  us  men  and  for  our  salvation,  was  crucified? 

III.  That  the  Passion  story  contains,  under  the  above- 
named  conditions,  a  compendium  of  the  Gospel,  may  be 
illustrated  from  a  rapid  consideration  of  a  few  amongst  many 
points  which  are  enacted  on  the  broad  platform  of  the  theatre 
at  Ammergau.  Indeed,  if  we  calculate  from  the  parting  at 
Bethany  to  the  last  cry  on  Calvary,  the  divine  life  of  three- 
and-thirty  years  is  almost  reproduced  in  outline  in  the  almost 
identical  number  of  hours  of  the  Passion.  The  life  shadowed 
in  the  sacred  infancy,  less  obscurely  indicated  in  the  child- 
hood of  Christ,  openly  evidenced  in  His  missionary  career, 
and  made  plainer  and  plainer  as  the  awful  end  approached, 
culminates  in  these  concluding  hours.  Of  this  certain 
isolated  cases,  not  always  discussed  in  strict  chronological 
order,  in  the  scanty  records  of  the  early  years  of  the  Divine 
Child  may  be  noted,  in  the  first  place — 

1.  The  Passion  was  a  time  of  passive  endurance,  in  which 


908  Illustrations  of  the  Passion, 

the  very  and  true  God  placed  Himself  at  the  mercy  of  His 
creatures,  and  patiently  awaited  His  predestinated  death. 
Was  it  otherwise  in  the  mysterious  time  at  Bethlehem,  in 
the  bosom  of  Mary,  when  the  Eternal  Son  patiently  awaited 
His  pre-ordained  birth  ? 

2.  Of  all  the  sons  of  men,  our  divine  Master  was  pleased 
more  nearly  than  many  others,  before  and  since,  to  fulfil  in 
His  own  person  the  prophetic  utterance  of  His  servant  Job, 
touching  His  entrance  into,  and  departure  from,  the  world. 
And  is  it  not  written  of  the  soldiers  beneath  the  cross,  that 
they  parted  amongst  them  the  garments  of  the  Yirgin-born, 
and  left  Him  to  die  in  the  condition  in  which  He  was  born  ? 

3.  In  His  dolorous  Passion,  the  Creator  of  all  things  is 
seen  bound  with  cords  by  the  creatures  of  His  almighty 
hands,  and  stretched  upon  the  inflexible  wood — be  it  bed,  or 
chair,  or  saddle,  or  throne — of  the  cross.  At  His  birth,  do 
we  not  read  that  the  fairest  work  of  His  creative  powec 
wrapped  her  Creator  in  swathing  bands,  and  laid  Him  for 
shelter  from  the  wintry  blast  in  a  cattle  manger  ? 

4.  In  the  first  hours  of  His  young  life,  the  Child  Jesus 
was  surrounded  and  sheltered  by  the  beasts  of  the  field, 
faithful  in  fulfilling  the  object  of  their  creation ;  He  was 
carried,  by  night,  without  His  will  being  consulted,  into 
Egypt ;  He  was  brought  again,  without  concealment,  into 
Judea  ;  and  at  Nazareth  was  for  years  voluntarily  subjected 
to  Mary  and  to  Joseph.  So,  in  the  awful  Passion  of  the 
Christ  of  God — are  we  not  witnesses  of  His  being  mobbed  by 
men  less  faithful  than  the  beasts  that  perish ;  of  His  being 
captured  by  night,  and  led  hither  and  thither  by  daylight ; 
and  if  not  against  His  will,  yet  in  His  permissive  will  only, 
of  His  being  made  subject  to  Annas  and  Caiphas,  and  Pilate 
and  Herod  ? 

5.  In  His  early  years,  the  Word  of  the  Father  was 
pleased  to  be  silent  amongst  men ;  to  be  taught  to  speak  by 
His  spotless  Mother ;  to  be  found,  later  on,  sitting  in  the 
Temple  of  God,  in  the  midst  of  the  Doctors,  humbly  hearing 
them,  and  meekly  asking  them  questions.  During  His 
Passion-woes  He  is  again  in  their  midst,  no  longer  a  child  : 
He  is  standing  before  the  Governor ;  He  is  under  examina- 


from  Literature  and  the  Drama.  909 

tion  by  the  Jewish  Sanhedrim.  Did  not  Jesus  then  hold 
His  peace,  insomuch  that  Pilate  marvelled  and  the  High 
Priest  adjured  ?  and  did  not  the  Word  and  Wisdom  of  God, 
hearing  the  taunts  of  His  enemies,  accept  their  accusation, 
and  openly  make  answer,  "  Thou  hast  said  :  I  am  "  ? 

Now,  all  these  and  many  more  fulfilments,  parallelisms, 
and  contrasts  in  the  Gospel  of  the  Childhood  and  the  Gospel 
of  the  Passion,  are  visibly,  aurally,  circumstantially  exhibited, 
in  minutest  detail,  in  the  sacred  drama  at  Ammergau.  The 
silence  and  the  speech  of  Christ ;  His  capture  in  the  Garden, 
and  enforced  subjection  to  Jew  and  Gentile,  conqueror  and 
conquered  ;  His  being  bound  with  cords,  and  placed  upon 
the  rigid  wood  of  the  cross  ;  His  utter  dereliction,  and  the 
division  of  His  garments,  and  the  gambling  for  His  seamless 
vesture  on  Golgotha ;  and  the  infinitely  patient  endurance  of 
His  sufferings,  during  His  Passion — all  these  anti-types  of 
PTis  early  childhood,  are  they  not  exhibited  afresh  in  presence 
of  the  representatives  of  the  Christian  world  in  the  words 
and  actions  and  gestures  of  the  Play  at  Ammergau  ?  They 
are.  They  are  enacted  anew,  week  after  week,  before  the 
eyes  of  that  vast,  reverent  and  spell-bound  audience,  cosmo- 
politan and  Catholic,  which  witness  them  :  and  he  is  want- 
ing either  in  the  elements  of  his  New  Testament  knowledge, 
or  in  the  power  to  apply  and  utilize  such  knowledge,  who 
fails  mentally  to  supply  the  type  as  the  sacred  anti-type  is 
presented  to  his  understanding  verbally,  or  actively  in 
dramatic  reality. 

The  like  evidence  that  the  Gospel  of  fche  Passion  is  an 
epitome  of  the  Gospel  of  the  three  years'  Ministry,  is  equally 
obvious  at  Ammergau.  Naturally,  from  the  conditions  of 
the  case,  the  evidence  is  even  more  particular,  exact,  and 
detailed  than  the  instances  already  reproduced.  Of  course, 
in  this  place,  only  the  merest  fragment  of  such  evidence  can 
be  offered  for  criticism  ;  and  that  only  in  brief. 

Consider,  however : — 

1.  The  introduction,  as  it  were,  to  the  mission-life  of 
Christ — His  fasting  in  the  wilderness  for  forty  days ;  who,  when 
it  was  ended,  was  permitted  to  tempt  him?  how  and  in  what 
manner,  during  His  tria,l,  He  was  tempted,  naniely,  to  assert 


910  Illustrations  of  the  Passion, 

His  divinity  ?  At  three  o'clock  on  Good  Friday,  the  Master 
had  probably  been  fasting  for  forty  hours,  if  we  include  in  this 
estimate  the  religious  fast  preceding  the  Paschal  Feast ;  He 
was  tempted  by  the  Tempter  in  the  person  of  man,  under 
many  forms — Jew,  Galilean,  and  Eoman  ;  He  was  tempted 
to  deny  His  divinity,  as  previously  He  had  been  tempted  to 
avow  it. 

2.  Christ,  in  preparation  for  His  earthly  ministry,  sent 
forth  His  disciples,  by  two  and  two,  in  order  to  prepare  a 
way  before  Him ;  He  gathered  around  Him  apostles  on 
the  Mount ;  He  taught  them  the  elements  of  His  religion, 
and  pronounced  an  abstract  of  its  practice  in  the  Ten 
Beatitudes.  Previously  to  His  Passion,  He  again  sent  two 
of  His  most  trusted  friends  and  followers  to  prepare  a  place 
in  which  to  celebrate  the  last  Passover  and  to  institute  the 
first  Eucharist ;  He  gathered  together  the  apostolic  college 
in  the  Upper  Chamber,  and  taught  them  the  higher  mysteries 
of  the  faith  ;  He  finally  uttered  His  last  Seven  Words  from 
the  Cross,  which  at  least  share  with  the  Beatitudes  the 
attention  of  the  world — words  of  pardon,  of  promise,  of 
sympathy,  of  complaint,  of  desire,  of  fulfilment,  of  com- 
mendation. 

3.  Our  Saviour's  first  manifestation  of  His  power  before 
His  mission,  was  done  at  the  instance  of  His  Blessed  Mother, 
at  a  marriage  feast,  and  water  was  turned  into  wine ;  and 
twice  afterwards  did  He  multiply  a  few  loaves  to  feed  the 
bodies  of  a  few  thousand  of  famishing  men.  His  last 
private  manifestation  of  divine  power,  before  the  crucifixion, 
Mary  being  present  in  spirit,  if  not  in  person,  took  place  after 
the  Paschal  Feast,  when  bread  became  the  super-substantial 
Food  of  Angels,  powerful  to  suffice  the  famishing  souls  of  an 
universe,  and  the  Cenacolo  became  the  anti-type  of  Cana  in 
Galilee. 

4.  Three  favoured  apostles  were  chosen  to  witness  their 
Master's  glory  on  Thabor,  when  Moses  and  Ehas  assisted 
at  the  revelation,  and  a  bright  cloud  overshadowed  them  all. 
The  same  favoured  three  were  deemed  worthy  to  watch  with 
their  Lord  in  the  Garden,  when  the  dark  pall  of  night  over- 
hung them,  under  the  olive-trees,  and  a  created  angel  was 
sent  to  strengthen  in  His  agony  the  Uncreated. 


from  Literature  and  the  Drama.  911 

5.  Again,  in  former  days,  and  amongst  His  own  people, 
Christ  could  do  no  mighty  work  because  of  the  unbelief  of 
His  fellow-countrymen ;  His  words  were  misapprehended ; 
His  deeper  teaching  was  denied  by  friend  and  foe  alike.  It 
was  not  otherwise  in  the  hours  of  His  Passion.  Our  Blessed 
Lord,  for  the  like  cause,  was  powerless  in  Jerusalem  even  to 
speak  the  truth,  because  He  would  not  be  believed  by  the 
Jews ;  and  the  words  of  His  friends  on  the  sacraments  of 
the  Eucharist,  Baptism,  or  Confession  are  fairly  comparable 
with  those  of  the  false  witnesses,  ''Destroy  this  temple;" 
or  to  those  of  the  chief  priests,  **  I  am  the  King  of  the 
Jews." 

6.  Even  that  singular  episode,  of  which  no  sufficient 
explanation  (it  is  believed)  has  yet  been  given — the  expressed 
wish  of  certain  Greeks  to  see  Jesus,  is  paralleled  in  the  last 
hours  of  Christ  by  other  not  less  singular  episodes  which, 
speaking  humanly,  come  from  nothing  and  lead  to  nothing 
in  the  history  of  the  Passion;  and  which,  having  been  placed 
on  record  in  the  inspired  narrative,  are  then  dismissed.  Of 
these  there  are  not  less  than  four  in  the  Gospel  of  the 
Passion,  one  being  handed  down  by'each  of  the  Evangelists — 
the  dream  of  Pilate's  wife ;  the  delivery  of  our  Lord,  in  the 
first  place,  to  Annas ;  the  friendship  of  Pilate  and  Herod 
renewed  over  the  captive  person  of  our  Lord  God ;  and  the 
young  man's  action  who  followed  the  procession  to  Golgotha, 
having  a  linen  cloth  cast  about  his  body. 

All  these  points,  again,  except  the  last  one,  are  illustrated 
in  the  Passion  Play  at  Ammergau,  in  the  sight  of  all  who 
will  be  at  the  pains  to  look  below  the  surface  and  decipher 
them — the  arbitrary,  unaccountable  episodes  which  stand 
out  solitarily  in  the  evangelistic  story :  the  deliberate  and 
intentional  perjury  of  the  false  witnesses  ;  our  Master's 
almighty  powerlessness  against  wilful  unbelief ;  the  election 
of  the  highly  favoured  three  to  witness  His  glory  and  His 
agony  alike;  the  scenes  in  the  Cenacolo;  the  mission  of 
faith  and  love,  Peter  and  John,  in  preparation  for  Christian 
mysteries  ;  His  supernatural  fast,  and  the  temptation  of 
Christ  by  the  high  priest,  the  chief  priests,  the  Jewish  people, 
and  the  Koman  soldiery. 


912  •    Illustrations  of  the  Passion, 

Neither  is  the  element  of  the  miraculous,  as  it  is  termed, 
absent  from  the  Gospel  of  the  Passion,  in  ways  paralleled 
by,  or  antithetical  to,  those  with  which  we  are  familiar  in  the 
Gospel  of  the  Ministry ;  and  this,  whether  in  act  or  in  word. 

Take  but  a  few  obvious  instances  in  support  of  this  posi- 
tion : — 

1.  More  than  once  did  our  Blessed  Lord  Himself  escape 
by  supernatural  agency  from  the  malice  of  His  enemies,  or 
from  the  indiscretion  of  His  friends,  during  His  three  years 
of  mission.  Now,  in  the  midst  of  His  Passion-woes,  and 
with  one  almighty  word,  ''  Let  these  go  their  way,"  He 
ensures  the  escape  of  His  apostles  from  the  garden  on  the 
night  of  His  apprehension. 

2.  Shortly  after  His  transfiguration,  when  He  descended 
from  the  mount,  our  Saviour  healed  the  faithful  servant 
of  the  centurion,  who  earnestly  besought  the  cure.  Directly 
after  His  agony,  before  He  was  led  away  by  the  temple 
guard,  Christ  healed  the  servant  of  the  faithless  high  priest, 
who  asked  it  not. 

3.  The  unwilling  testimony  of  the  unclean  or  possessing 
spirits  to  the  Godhead  of  Christ  is  noteworthy  during  the 
years  of  the  ministry.  In  the  hours  of  the  Passion,  the 
imconscious  witness  of  the  multitude,  with  a  band  of  soldiers 
and  officers,  to  our  Saviour's  Deity  is  even  more  remark- 
able. For,  we  read  that  at  the  incommunicable  Name,  I  Am, 
they  went  backward  and  fell  to  the  ground.  And,  if  we 
turn  from  act  to  word,  it  will  not  fail  to  strike  the  student  of 
Scripture  that  the  absolute  foreknowledge  of  our  divine 
Lord,  which  was  exhibited  in  many  ways  in  the  period  of 
His  ministry,  is  not  without  a  counterpart  in  the  time  of  His 
Passion.  For  instance :  did  He  not  foretell  to  Peter  and 
John  what  would  befall  them  on  entering  the  Holy  City,  in 
order  to  prepare  for  their  Master  the  Passover  ?  Did  He 
not  warn  the  traitor  of  his  treachery ;  and  indicate,  by  sign 
and  deed,  afterwards  understood  by  the  apostles,  the  person 
of  the  traitor ;  and  intimate  to  the  eleven  the  near  approach 
of  Judas  in  Gethsemani  ?  Did  He  not  also  warn  His  chiefest 
apostle,  the  great  saint  of  the  future,  the  not  yet  saint  of 
to-day,  of  his  threefold  sad  denial  of  his  Master,  and  warn  the 


from  Literature  and  the  Drama.  913 

apostles  in  a  body  against  seeking  the  first  place  ?  and  did 
He  not  foretell  that  all  should  be  offended  because  of  Him, 
and  that  the  flock  should  be  scattered  ?  And  in  the  very 
same  night  did  not  Peter  deny?  was  there  not  a  strife 
amongst  the  apostolic  college  who  should  be  the  greatest  ? 
and  before  the  day  daw^ned  had  not  all  the  trusted  eleven 
forsaken  Him  and  fled?  And,  not  to  go  more  deeply  into 
this  matter,  did  not  our  Saviour  allude  beforehand  to  His 
sufferings  and  death,  both  in  general  terms  and  in  specific 
detail,  to  His  rising  again,  to  his  apparition  in  Galilee, 
and  to  His  ascension,  where  He  was  before  ?  And 
were  not  all  these  pre-announcements  duly  and  literally 
fulfilled? 

Everyone  of  these  coincidences  here  mentioned,  and  many 
more  that  have  been  left  unnamed,  are  enacted  before  the 
eyes  of  the  spectator  in  the  Passion  Play  at  Ammergau.  It 
is  probable  that  the  careful  and  exact  attention  which  has 
been  bestowed  upon  these  and  other  incidents,  apparently  of 
secondary  moment  in  the  course  of  the  drama,  but  really  of 
main  importance  to  a  faithful  reproduction  of  the  sacred 
story,  has  done  much  to  give  to  the  Play,  however  incon- 
sequentially, the  title,  in  public  estimation,  which  is  fully 
deserved  on  other  grounds,  of  *'  scriptural."  In  any  case,  it 
will  be  allowed  that  he  only  will  have  failed  to  read  the 
Gospel  in  the  Passion,  repeated  in  the  histrionic  features 
of  the  Ammergau  drama,  who  has  failed  to  master  the 
Gospel  of  the  Ministry  described  in  the  pages  of  the  New 
Testament. 

Oeby  Shipley. 


Vol.  xii.  3  m 


I    M4    ] 


THE  ''LEAKAGE"  FEOM  THE  CATHOLIC  CHUECH 
IN  GEEAT  BEITAIN. 

MANY  able  and  interesting  articles  on  this  subject,  under 
different  headings,  have  appeared  from  time  to  time  in 
the  I.  E.  Eecoed.  " Missionary  Eector  "  and  "Missionary 
Coadjutor"  (1890)  have  crossed  swords  over  it;  while  Father 
Vaughan  (vol.  viii.,  343),  with  saintly  humihty,  has  asked  us 
to  deplore  and  stem  the  vast  "  leakage  "  that  admittedly 
exists  from  the  Catholic  Church  in  Britain,  at  the  foot  of  the 
tabernacle.  The  pages  of  The  Month,  The  Dublin  Beview, 
The  Tablet,  &c.,  have  also  been  devoted  to  discussing  the 
subject.  Dr.  Tynan's  interesting  paper  in  the  July  number 
of  the  I.  E.  Eecoed  brings  the  matter  fairly  well  down  to 
date. 

To  those  accustomed  to  read  narratives  of  conversions 
to  Catholicity  in  England  and  Scotland,  accounts  of 
Catholic  missions  being  multiplied,  and  of  churches,  con- 
vents, and  schools  being  erected  and  adorned  in  these 
countries,  the  news  that,  instead  of  advancing,  the  Church 
is,  in  fact,  losing  ground,  will  come  with  much  surprise. 
Many  will  be  startled  at  reading  that  the  ''vital "  question 
for  the  Church  in  England  to-day  "  is  not  the  conversion  of 
Protestants,"  but  "  the  conversion  of  Catholics  themselves;" 
or  rather  the  retention  of  its  own  children  in  the  faith  of 
their  fathers.  And  yet,  such  is  the  statement  made  by  Dr. 
Tynan,  and  equivalently  made  by  many  others,  from  sources 
and  opportunities  of  information  that  entitle  them  to  be 
outspoken  on  the  matter. 

We  would  all  wish  that  things  were  not  so,  and  that  the 
experiences  the  learned  doctor  gives  in  sustainment  of  his 
views,  are  exceptional  and  his  statistics  inconclusive.  We 
would  fain  see  more  brilliant  prospects  for  the  return  of 
England  to  the  true  fold  than  he  holds  out  to  us.  However, 
an  abundance  of  proof  exists  to  convince  us  that  vast  numbers 
(Dr.  Tynan  computes  those  who  have  fallen  away  in  England 
alone  at  well-nigh  a  million  of  souls)  who  were  baptized 


The  "  Leakage''  from  the  Catholic  Church,  dec,      915 

Catholics,  fall  away  from  the  faith  and  become  practically 
apostates.  This,  surely,  is  a  gloomy  prospect  for  the  retm:n 
of  Britain  to  the  faith,  and  one  that  calls  for  the  most 
anxious  exertions  of  all  concerned.  To  none  should  it 
bring  greater  grief  than  to  the  Irish  bishops,  priests,  and 
people  :  for,  do  not  our  "kith  and  kin"  make  up  the  vast 
numbers  of  those  so  falling  away  ?  By  none  should  it  be 
more  seriously  taken  into  consideration  than  by  the  Catholics 
of  Great  Britain,  both  lay  and  clerical;  and  even  Eome 
itself  must  regard  it  with  very  grave  anxiety.  I  offer  no 
apology,  therefore,  save  my  inability  to  treat  of  it  properly, 
for  asking  space  for  my  views  on  this  question  in  any 
Catholic  publication.  To  anyone  who  may  think  me  a  "fool " 
for  rushing  in  "  where  angels  fear  to  tread,"  I  would  respect- 
fully say, 

"  Si  quid  novisti  rectius  istis" 
**  Candidus  imperti  :  si  non,  his  utere  mecum." 

To  catholicise  Great  Britain,  I  agree  with  Dr.  Tynan, 
that  the  first  and  chief  thing  to  do,  even  if  there  were  no 
other  motive,  is  to  retain  in  the  Church  all  those  born  of 
Catholic  parents,  and  to  pass  them  out  of  this  world  in  the 
faith  of  their  fathers,  transmitting  to  their  offspring,  un- 
sullied, the  priceless  inheritance  of  the  true  faith.  It  is 
easier  to  retain  than  to  convert ;  and,  were  all,  or  nearly  all, 
born  of  Catholic  parents,  professing  Catholics  in  Great 
Britain  to-day,  the  Church  would  be  far  more  stalwart  in  itself 
and  far  more  powerful  in  upsetting  heresy  and  in  resisting 
infidelity.  To  stop  the  disastrous  "  leakage  "  that  undoubt- 
edly exists,  its  location  in  the  Catholic  body  should  be 
determined  and  its  causes  examined,  so  that,  if  possible, 
effective  remedies  may  be  applied. 

Some  persons  treat  of  it  only  as  if  it  refers  to  the  children 
of  the  Green  Isle.  Such  is  by  no  means  the  case.  There 
are  numbers  of  French,  German,  and  Italian-speaking 
people  in  England  and  Scotland,  Catholics  by  birth  and 
early  education  :  not  merely  do  they  not  go  to  mass,  but 
they  don't  rank  themselves  as  Catholics  at  all.  They  don't 
contribute  to  the  support  of  priests,  or  to  the  erection  of 


916      •  The"  Leakage "  from  the 

churches,  convents,  or  schools,  as  many  of  the  indifferent 
Irish  do.  They  have  become  ashamed  of  their  faith,  or  they 
act  as  if  they  can  get  on  better  by  not  professing  it.  They 
marry  in  heretical  places  of  worship,  or  in  registry  offices  ; 
and  rarely,  indeed,  are  the  children  of  such  people  baptized. 
Hardly  ever  are  they  sent  to  Catholic  schools.  Catholicity 
in  Great  Britain  is  unquestionably  suffering  great  loss  by 
such  apostasy.  Those  who  have  experience  of  missionary 
work  in  the  great  English  and  Scotch  centres  will,  I  believe, 
agree  with  me  that  the  practice,  and  even  the  profession,  of 
the  Catholic  faith  amongst  other  nationalities  than  the  Irish, 
are  things  that  are  not  much  known  (although  vast  numbers 
of  such  persons,  many  of  whom  must  have  been  Catholics, 
have  migrated  into  Britain  and  remain  there),  and  that 
those  who  retain  the  profession  of  their  faith  the  best,  and 
who  transmit  it  with  the  fewest  losses  by  wilful  apostasy, 
proportionally,  are  the  children  of  St.  Patrick.  Catholic 
writers  on  the  subject  will  all,  I  am  sure,  agree  with  me  in 
this  ;  and  they  will  not  deny  the  Irish  all  the  credit  that  is 
their  due  for  the  catholicization  of  Britain.  This,  I  venture 
to  say,  is  nearly  all  that  has  been  done  for  the  Church  in 
that  country  for  the  last  forty  years. 

It  is  extremely  difficult  to  counteract  the  "  leakage"  that 
exists  amongst  Germans,  French,  Italians,  and  other 
foreigners  in  England  and  Scotland.  Faith,  in  such  cases,  is 
very  often  dead.  The  practice  of  attending  mass  and  the 
sacraments  may  have  been  given  up  before  such  people  left 
their  homes.  Their  new  associations  are  almost  wholly  non- 
Catholic,  if  not  actually  heretical  or  infidel ;  and  the  want  of 
better  class  schools  to  compete  with  the  grammar  schools  of 
the  towns  in  which  they  settle  down,  completes  in  the 
second  and  for  subsequent  generations,  the  apostasy  com- 
menced in  the  first.  To  stem  this  "  leakage"  seems  very 
hopeless  as  long  as  the  Catholics  in  Great  Britain  belong 
almost  'entirely  to  the  sons  and  daughters  of  manual  toil ; 
but,  nevertheless.  Catholic  unions  and  Catholic  clubs,  acting 
in  unison  with  the  great  Catholic  organizations  of  the  Con- 
tinent, might  do  much  in  the  desired  direction.  If  the 
clergy  in  their  various  districts  became  aware  of  the  abode 


Catholic  Church  in  Great  Britain.  917 

of  such  persons  (as  they  could  do,  if  Catholic  unions  were 
really  effective),  something  might  be  done  by  timely  and 
friendly  visits  to  them.  Where  their  numbers  and  goodness 
permit,  Italian,  German,  and  French  churches  are,  I  sup- 
pose, in  existence  for  them.  Such  churches,  however,  cannot 
be  sufficiently  numerous  ;  and,  perhaps,  the  formation  of 
Catholic  guilds,  consisting  of  such  foreigners  and  presided  over 
by  priests  who  thoroughly  understand  their  language,  would  do 
something  to  retain  them  in  the  Catholic  faith.  A  combina- 
tion of  even  a  few  in  one  centre,  and  a  connection  and 
sympathy  with  a  similar  few  in  adjoining  centres,  might 
foster  a  good  Catholic  tone  amongst  them,  rouse  them  to 
religious  fervour,  and  stimulate  them  into  zealous  action  for 
the  salvation  of  their  compatriots. 

I  can  speak  with  greater  confidence,  because  I  have 
greater  knowledge,  of  the  "  leakage"  amongst  the  Irish. 

That  "  leakage"  is  truly  deplorable,  and  if  much  more  be 
not  done  to  stop  it,  it  is  likely  to  increase  in  tenfold  magni- 
tude amongst  the  descendants  of  those  who  left  Ireland  for 
England  and  Scotland  in  the  present  half  century.  Those 
English-born  Irish,  though  very  frequently  more  Irish 
than  the  Irish  themselves,  don't  drink  in  their  faith  from 
their  mothers'  brea  sts.  They  don't  grow  up  in  it,  regarding 
it  as  more  valuable  than  life  itself.  They  are  nurtured  by 
parents  who  have  been  affected  by  the  religious  indifference 
in  the  midst  of  which  their  lot  is  cast ;  and  they  come  in 
contact,  in  mills,  mines,  and  market-places,  with  alluring 
vices  that  kill  religious  instincts,  and  with  associations  that 
inevitably  contaminate  pure  faith.  All  the  greater  care  and 
zeal,  therefore,  are  required  for  them ;  and  hopeless  as  the 
task  would  seem,  discouraging  as  the  efforts  of  truly  mis- 
sionary priests  may  appear,  the  Catholic  Church  and  the 
grace  of  God  are  powerful  enough  to  succeed. 

Of  the  "  leakage"  amongst  the  Irish  the  causes  are  of 
various  kinds.  Some  are  on  the  part  of  the  people  them- 
selves ;  others  are  traceable  to  the  foes  of  our  faith ;  and 
some  others,  perhaps,  may  be  found  in  the  deficiency  of 
Catholic  organization  and  in  the  working  of  the  Church 
itself, 


918  The  "  LeaMge  "  from  the 

The  causes  that  may  be  said  to  be  the  fault  of  the  people 
themselves  are  chiefly — (a)  intemperance  ;  (b)  mixed  mar- 
riages ;  and  (c)  carelessness  of  rehgious  duties. 

These  causes  must  be  met  by  the  usual  weapons  of  the 
Catholic  Church,  assisted  by  such  aids,  not  purely  religious, 
as  the  circumstances  of  time  and  locality  will  provide. 

It  is  undoubtedly  true  that  great  zeal  is  manifested  in 
the  use  of  these  weapons  by  bishops,  priests,  and  many 
CathoHc  laymen.  Young  men's  societies,  clubs,  confrater- 
nities, leagues,  libraries,  &c.,  are  worked  in  many  places  to 
stem  the  evils  in  question  ;  and  frequently  the  smallness  of 
the  success  apparent  is  most  discouraging.  The  success, 
however,  gained  is  greater  than  that  apparent ;  for,  when 
zeal  is  of  a  preventive  kind,  its  achievements  are  hidden  and 
known  only  to  God  Himself.  Greater  things,  however,  must 
be  done,  and  done  in  a  greater  number  of  places,  if  intem- 
perance and  its  crowd  of  evils  are  to  be  stayed,  and  a  stop 
put  to  its  fecund  generation  of  apostates.  It  destroys  most 
of  the  Irish  in  Britain  who  fall  away  from  the  faith,  body 
and  soul ;  it  paralyzes  their  success  in  life,  robs  them  of  all 
happiness  and  social  influence,  makes  them  a  disgrace  to 
their  country  and  to  their  creed  :  and  they  become  by  it  a 
stumbling-block  in  the  onward  march  of  the  Church  of  God. 
All  the  religious  strength,  as  well  as  all  the  pohtical  power 
and  social  influence  of  the  Irish  people,  at  home  and  abroad, 
should  be  employed  against  it.  Individual  zeal  will  produce 
only  a  transitory  effect  if  the  laws  do  not  assist  in  removing 
the  temptations  and  encouragements  to  intemperance.  Purely 
political  considerations  should  not  divide  the  Irish  people  on 
this  great  religious  question ;  nor  would  their  power  in 
England  be  one  whit  the  less,  but  much  the  greater,  if  they 
were  united  upon  it. 

But  what  is  to  be  done  with  mixed  marriages  ?  A  priest 
on  an  English  mission  told  me,  some  time  ago,  that  on  one 
*'road"  in  his  district,  and  in  the  streets  emptying  into  it, 
he  counted  over  one  hundred  mixed  marriages.  In  almost 
all  these  cases  the  Catholic  party  had  practically  given  up 
the  faith  !  Similar  stories  are  very  numerous,  and  it  seems 
to  be  agreed  that  mixed  marriages  are  causing  a  vast  amount 


Catholic  Church  in  Great  Britain,  919 

of  the  "  leakage."  No  wonder  the  Church  with  its  unerring 
wisdom  and  foresight  has  most  emphatically  condemned 
such  nuptials,  and  warned  long  ago  and  repeatedly  the 
Catholics  of  Britain  against  them.  **  Tanquam  illicitas  ac 
perniciosas  turn  oh  flagitio^am  in  Divinis  communionemy  turn 
oh  impendens  Catholico  conjugi  perversionis  periculum,  turn 
oh  pravam  soholis  iiistitutionem."  It  seems  the  Church 
merely  tolerates  them,  and  it  orders  that  they  are  never  to 
be  permitted  unless  ^' gravihus  dumtaxat  de  causis  atque 
aegre  admodum  fit,'"  and  on  certain  well-known  conditions. 
The  seasonable  publication  of  the  laws  of  the  Church,  and 
well-reasoned  explanations  of  them  from  the  pulpit  and  the 
Catholic  press,  will  do  much  to  prevent  mixed  marriages ; 
but  they  will  continue,  and  they  must  be  looked  upon  as  a 
necessary  evil,  in  a  country  where  Catholics  count  as  only 
one  to  ten  of  the  population.  To  have  as  few  of  them  as 
may  be,  is  ardently  to  be  desired  and  laboured  for ;  but  to 
have  those  that  are  entered  into,  celebrated  in  the  Catholic 
church,  those  in  charge  of  souls  should  zealously  endeavour. 
Vehement  denunciations  of  their  sinfulness  elsewhere  than 
in  the  Catholic  church,  and  a  salutary  infusion  of  a  holy 
dread  of  divine  vengeance  if  celebrated  elsewhere,  will  do 
much  with  those  persons  who  have  not  yet  lost  the  Catholic 
faith  and  spirit,  to  prevent,  at  all  events,  the  sacrilegious  re- 
ception of  the  seventh  sacrament.  That  sacrament  being 
religiously  received ,  and  an  acquaintanceship  formed  between 
the  priest  and  the  non-Catholic  party,  the  removal  of  preju- 
dice from  the  latter  will  primarily  result.  A  friendly 
visitation,  directed  by  a  well-kept  status  animarum,  will 
then  very  often  bring  about  an  exact  compliance  with  the 
conditions  on  which  the  dispensation  was  granted.  Should 
that  be  so,  the  outcome  very  probably  will  be  that,  not 
merely  will  the  Catholic  party  continue  in  the  practice  of  the 
Catholic  religion,  and  all  the  children  of  the  marriage  be 
brought  up  Catholics,  but  the  non-Catholic  party  will  some- 
times be  converted.  Migration  from  district  to  district,  and 
from  town  to  town,  militates  against  this  system  of  visitation. 
In  most  cases,  however,  the  parties  migrating  can  be  brought 
under  the  cognizance  of  the  priest  in  the  new  district ;  and, 


&20  ■  The  " Leakage"  from  the 

if  he  in  his  zeal  "  take  up  the  running  "  where  it  was  left  off 
in  the  former  parish,  the  same  desirable  results  may  be 
realized. 

As  to  negligence  of  mass  and  the  sacraments  being  a 
cause  of  eventual,  virtual  apostasy,  and  thereby  of  a  great 
"leakage"  from  the  Church — it  would,  indeed,  seem  that 
such  negligence  can  hardly  be  distinguished  from  the  "  leak- 
age "  itself.  Nevertheless  I  am  far  from  admitting  that  the 
vast  number  of  those  Irish  Catholics  who,  in  England  and 
Scotland,  miss  mass,  and  absent  themselves  from  the  sacra- 
ments even  for  years,  have  given  up  the  faith.  No.  I  have 
met  thousands  of  such  persons  in  an  experience  of  several 
years,  and  hardly  ever  did  I  meet  one  that  wished  to  do  so. 

Even  the  most  careless  Irish,  as  a  class,  are  easily  in- 
fluenced by  a  sympathetic  priest.  On  them  should  prudent, 
timely,  friendly  zeal  be  exercised ;  and,  unquestionably,  it  will 
be  largely  profitable.  Much  tact,  however,  is  required  in  the 
exercise  of  it ;  for  the  best  meant  exertions  frequently  come 
to  nought,  even  after  great  labour  and  prayer,  because  of  the 
manner  in  which  the  Irish  people  are  spoken  to  and  spoken 
of,  and  sometimes  because  of  pushing  theological  views, 
inimical  to  an  Irishman's  sense  of  patriotism,  needlessly  and 
defencelessly  too  far.  The  peculiarities  of  this  people  must 
be  allowed  for.  They  should  themselves  be  treated  with 
respect  and  friendship,  as  well  as  with  urbanity  and  charity. 
They  should  be  exhorted  and  admonished,  and  not  upbraided 
and  threatened ;  and  when  brought  to  the  church,  whether 
to  an  early  mass  at  which  bad  clothes  would  induce  them  to 
prefer  to  attend,  or  to  a  week-evening  service,  to  which,  for 
the  same  reason,  they  often  prefer  to  go  rather  than  to  the 
Sunday  evening  service,  they  should  be  instructed  in  plain 
and  forcible  language  on  religious  truths  and  obligations, 
and  they  should  be  exhorted  with  unction  to  persevere  in 
the  profession  of  the  former  and  the  fulfilment  of  the  latter. 

In  reference  to  the  "  leakage  "  that  occurs  amongst  Irish 
people  arising  from  the  avowed  opponents  of  their  creed,  I 
would  consider  that  most  of  it  concerns  the  children  of  the 
very  poor  and  the  very  careless.  Associating  with  infidels 
in   clubs   and   lecturcrhalls    does   something  to  shake  and 


Catholic  Church  in  Great  Britain.  921 

destroy  the  faith  of  some  of  our  people.  Reading  misrepre- 
sentations of  Cathohc  practices,  and  hearing  attacks  on 
Catholic  truths,  veiled  in  sophistry,  do  also  something  to 
undermine  the  faith  of  the  Irish  in  Great  Britain ;  but  those 
of  them  brought  up  Catholics,  are  proof  enough,  so  far, 
against  such  temptations,  save  in  rare  instances.  The 
deserted  children,  the  orphans,  the  juvenile  Catholic  inmates 
of  English  and  Scotch  workhouses,  by  being  hired  out  to 
non-Catholics  at  an  early  age,  almost  always  lose  their  faith, 
and  there  seems  at  present  no  adequate  way  of  saving  them 
from  this  heartrending  fate.  Priests  may  do  a  deal  for  their 
spiritual  w^elfare  while  such  members  of  their  flocks  remain 
in  workhouses — where,  indeed,  it  is  very  hard  for  them  to 
practise  Christian  virtues.  But  boards  of  guardians  will  get 
rid  of  them  on  principles  of  economy  at  as  early  an  age  as 
they  can.  If  they  have  any  concern  for  their  religion  when 
parting  with  them  it  will  be  to  have  it  destroyed,  and  if  they 
are  compelled  to  take  some  steps  for  its  preservation  they 
will  content  themselves  with  being  promised  that  the 
children's  religion  will  not  be  interfered  with.  Earely  is 
such  a  promise  kept.  I  have  known  instances  where  poor 
law  boards  were  told  of  an  expressed  intention  on  the  part 
of  applicants  for  children  as  servants  to  proselytize  them. 
The  board  was  besought  not  to  entrust  the  children  to  such 
masters,  in  these  circumstances,  no  matter  what  promises 
were  made.  It  acted,  however,  on  the  promise  principle, 
and  gave  a  month's  trial.  The  proselytism  was  accomplished 
within  that  period,  and  on  a  child  stating  she  did  not  wish  to 
go  to  mass,  or  to  be  a  Catholic  any  longer,  the  guardians  were 
too  liberal-minded  to  interfere  with  her  "free  choice!" 
What  is  to  be  done  to  stop  this  "leakage"?  May  I  com- 
mend the  matter  to  the  earnest  consideration  of  the  Catholic 
association  that,  I  understand,  has  been  recently  formed  in 
England  for  protecting  Catholic  interests  ? 

Is  any  portion  of  the  "leakage"  amongst  the  Irish 
people  traceable  to  the  working  of  the  Catholic  Church  itself 
in  England  and  Scotland  ? 

This  may  seem  a  very  disrespectful — nay,  even  an 
impertinent — q^uestion,  if  it  is  to  be  answered  in  the  affirmative,- 


922  The  ''  Leakage  "  from  the 

However,  I  think  it  would  be  deplorable  to  be  fastidious 
where  I  mean  no  disrespect,  and  when  the  most  important 
of  all  issues  is  involved. 

"S.  V."  wrote  in  the  May  number  of  last  year's 
I.  E.  Recoed,  assigning  to  ''dearth  of  love  and  patience  "  on 
the  part  of  some  clerics  a  considerable  portion  of  the 
"leakage."  A  ''  Missionary  Coadjutor,"  in  the  June  number, 
would  seem  to  point  to  an  unequal  distribution  of  work,  and 
an  excessive  amount  of  duty  for  some  priests,  as  a  cause  of  it. 
Dr.  Tynan  in  his  able  "Plea  for  Discipline"  (September, 
1890),  and  Fr.  Vaughan  on  the  "  Leakage  "  (vol.  viii.,  343), 
would  indicate  other  sources  of  the  loss  of  faith  in  the  work- 
ing of  the  Church  itself.  Be  these  true  causes  or  not,  I 
think  there  is  one  cause  that  has  not  been  touched  upon  up 
to  the  present.  It  is  a  supposed  necessity  of  "  chapel  brass," 
as  it  is  sometimes  called,  for  admission  to  mass  on  Sundays. 

Rightly  or  wrongly  the  Irish  in  many  places  in  England 
and  Scotland  consider  that  they  are  required  to  pay  for 
admission  to  mass  on  Sundays ;  and  what  they  consider  is 
required  of  them,  amounts  to  a  considerable  sum  each  Sunday 
where  a  whole  household  is  taken  into  consideration. 

This  requirement,  whether  it  be  real  or  imaginary,  is  the 
cause  of  much  of  the  negligence  of  mass  of  which  the  Irish 
people  are  guilty,  and  which  so  often  results  in  practical 
apostasy.  How  often  is  not  the  want  of  *  *  chapel  brass ' '  alleged 
as  the  reason  for  missing  mass  ?  How  often  is  not  such 
omission  the  beginning  of  a  "break  down"  in  the  best 
resolutions  ?  How  often  is  it  not  the  commencement  of  the 
relapse  of  a  poor  penitent  ? 

The  Irish  poor  are  proud.  They  find  it  hard,  even  when 
their  inability  to  pay  entrance  money  arises  from  their  own 
fault,  to  meet  with  obstruction  from  a  door  collector;  to  be 
humiliated  by  him;  and  to  be  relegated,  if  admitted,  to  places 
set  apart  for  those  unable  to  pay.  Frequently,  inexcusable 
and  highly  culpable  though  they  know  their  conduct  to  be, 
they  absent  themselves  entirely,  rather  than  be  thus 
humiliated;  and  thus  is  lost  the  great  chance  of  their 
reformation,  and  commences  a  sinful  habit  which  ends  in 
their  being  lost  to  the  Church, 


Catholic  Church  in  Great  Britain.  923 

It  is  not  merely  the  poor  that  keep  away  owing  to  chapel 
money  having  come  to  be  regarded  as  required :  many 
''  fairly  well  off,"  where  a  number  out  of  a  family  ought  to 
attend  mass  every  Sunday,  find  "chapel-going"  expensive. 
The  Irish-reared  portion  of  this  class  rarely  grumble  on  this 
head.  They  would  give  their  last  sixpence  to  their  religion. 
But  their  children,  grown  up  in  England  and  Scotland, 
earning  wages  and  retaining  control  over  it  from  an  early  age, 
think  more  of  money  and  less  of  mass  ;  and  having  to  pay 
for  their  music  halls,  benefit  societies,  clubs,  &c.,  they  easily 
avail  themselves  of  the  bad  example  of  religious  negligence 
they  see  around  them,  to  save  the  Church  entrance  money. 

I  know  the  answer  that  can  be  given  to  these  views  : — 
priests  must  be  supported ;  schools  must  be  maintained  ; 
churches  must  be  supplied  with  their  requirements  ;  heavy 
interest  must  be  paid;  large  debts  must  be  wiped  out ;  and 
new  churches,  schools  and  missions  must  be  started. 

I  grant  all  this,  and  I  avow  that  too  much  credit  cannot 
be  given  to  those  who  have  supplied  Great  Britain,  in  most 
difficult  circumstances,  with  so  many  beautiful  churches, 
convents,  schools,  and  other  Catholic  institutions.  By 
having  done  so,  they  did  what  mortals  could  to  save  the 
poor  Irish  that  were  driven  from  their  own  country,  and 
their  children,  in  the  faith  of  their  fathers,  so  far.  Too  much 
gratitude  cannot  be  paid  to  those  who  laboured  so  hard, 
begging,  in  the  past,  for  the  erection  of  these  religious  build- 
ings. The  debt  system,  however,  was  necessary  to  supple- 
ment their  praiseworthy  exertions,  and,  like  mixed  marriages, 
it  has  been  a  necessary  evil.  Everything  provided  by  borrow- 
ing costs  at  least  double  its  value,  and  if  things  that 
are  not  absolutely  necessary  are  waited  for,  till  their  cost 
is  presented  or  collected,  they  would  then  be  had  at  their 
value  and  in  good  time  enough.  There  would  not  then  be  the 
same  necessity  for  big  church  door  collections.  Expensive 
outlays  have  not  attracted  many  converts;  but  have  they  not 
kept  away  many  Catholics  ?  If  I  might  express  an  opinion, 
therefore,  without  giving  offence,  I  would  respectfully  submit 
that,  if  the  "leakage"  is  to  be  stopped,  the  debt  system  in 
England  and  Scotland  should  be  got  rid  of  as  soon  as  possible, 


924  The  ' '  L  eaJcage ' '  fro7n  the 

and,  for  that  purpose,  that  things  that  are  not  urgently  needed 
be  done  without  for  the  present.  I  would  wish  the  day- 
had  come  when  all  Catholics  could  enter  their  churches  with- 
out their  fearing  to  be  repelled  for  want  of  money,  or  to  be 
hurt  in  their  feelings  by  being  relegated  to  humiliating  places 
in  the  house  of  God.  As  in  the  postal  and  railway  systems, 
income  has  vastly  increased  by  a  deci'ease  of  charges  ;  so,  I 
think,  church  income  would  likewise  increase,  if  charges  for 
admission  were  diminished ;  greater  numbers  would  attend, 
the  offertory  plate  would  be  better  supported,  and  much  of 
the  ''leakage  "  would  be  stopped. 

Another  cause  that  may  render  partially  ineffective  the 
efforts  of  priests  in  England  and  Scotland  in  retaining  so 
many  of  the  Irish  and  their  descendants  in  the  practice  of 
their  faith,  is,  I  think,  clerical  inaction,  outside  religion,  for 
their  welfare. 

In  no  country  in  the  world  have  priests  so  much  influence 
for  good  as  in  Ireland.  No  people  on  God's  earth  are  more 
amenable  to  the  ministers  of  our  holy  faith  than  the  Irish. 
Why  is  it  that  so  much  can  be  made  of  them  at  home ;  that, 
at  the  words  of  their  pastors,  they  will  do  anything  and 
dare  everything  ?  Because  they  find  the  priest  in  Ireland  in 
''touch"  with  them  in  alk  their  legitimate  aspirations;  and 
because  they  know  he  is  their  friend,  ready  to  use  his 
talents,  influence,  and  position,  for  their  welfare.  "Why  is  it 
that  these  same  people  (the  most  faithful  to  God's  Church 
all  the  world  over,  and  the  most  exemplary  at  home  in  the 
practice  of  Christian  virtue),  are  abandoning  it  in  such 
numbers,  and  becoming  a  disgrace  to  it  in  Great  Britain  ?  I 
fear  one  reason  is,  that  there  is  not  enough  of  priests  in  that 
country  who  understand  them,  who  are  "in  touch"  with 
them,  and  who  prove  to  them  that  they  sympathize  with 
them  in  their  legitimate  aspirations.  Unless  a  priest  is  "in 
touch  "  with  his  people,  and  sympathizes  with  their  legitimate 
aspirations  as  far  as  the  laws  of  his  Church  permit,  he  is  in 
danger  of  being  regarded  as  a  mere  mechanical  apparatus  for 
the  application  of  God's  graces;  and  such  priests,  be  they 
Irish,  English,  French,  or  Dutch,  in  Ireland,  England,  or 
Scotland,  would  soon  reduce  the  Church  in  these  countries 


Catholic  Church  in  Great  Britain.  925 

to  the  humiliating  position  it  occupies  on  the  continent.  I 
beheve  in  priests  taking  active  part  {exceptis  excipiendis)  in 
the  legitimate  efforts  of  the  vast  bulk  of  their  people,  who, 
in  Great  Britain,  are  almost  all  Irish,  for  a  satisfactory  redress 
of  the  wrongs  of  their  country,  for  the  amelioration  of  the 
condition  of  the  working  classes  that  constitute  the  vast 
portion  of  their  flock,  and  for  the  general  welfare  of  the  public 
at  large  ;  and  I  submit  that  their  abstention  deprives  them  of 
influence  for  religious  good  in  the  present,  and  is  calculated  to 
relegate  them,  even  amongst  their  own  people,  to  positions  of 
trifling  influence  in  the  settlement  of  social  questions  affecting 
religion,  in  the  not  distant  future.  I  also  think  that  judicious 
and  manly  action  in  these  matters,  on  the  part  of  priests, 
will  save  their  people  from  irreligious  control,  and  give  the 
Church  an  influence  over  them  that  will  enable  it  to  mould 
them  as  it  wishes  for  religious  purposes.  Cardinal  Manning 
has  made  himself  a  power  amongst  the  English  masses,  in 
spite  of  their  diabolical  hatred  of  his  sacred  character,  by  his 
invariably  showing  himself  their  friend.  He  has  been  none 
the  less  the  friend  of  truth,  justice,  and  religion,  in  so  doing ; 
and  if  the  Irish  people  are  to  be  retained  in  their  faith  in 
England  and  Scotland,  they  must  be  able  to  recognise  as 
their  friends,  the  priests  of  their  Church,  and  not  the 
Bradlaughs  and  Besants  of  the  infidel  schools.  That  the 
clergy  of  Britain  may  prove  themselves  entitled  to  such 
recognition,  they  have  only  to  imitate  the  exalted  lead  given 
to  all  ecclesiastics  by  Leo  XIII.  and  Cardinal  Manning.  To 
do  so,  and  thus  to  save  their  Irish  flocks  from  socialistic  and 
infidel  inroads,  next  to  their  sanctity,  everything  depends  on 
their  education  and  sympathetic  zeal. 

The  years  we  are  passing  through  should  be  of  deep 
interest  to  Irish  Catholics,  and  they  are  most  momentous 
ones  for  the  Church  in  England  and  Scotland.  The  de- 
scriptions of  the  "  leakage"  (almost  all  of  which  refer  to  the 
Irish)  we  meet  with  in  Catholic  publications  make  me  ask, 
Can  Ireland  do  anything  to  help  in  stopping  it?  A  million  of 
souls  fallen  away  from  the  Church  !  writes  Dr.  Tynan.^    A 

1 1.  E.  Kecord,  July,  18yi. 


926  The  ''Leakage "  from  the 

well-known  London  priest  said  some  time  ago,  that  almost 
nine  out  of  every  ten  boys  were  lost  sight  of  after  leaving 
school !  ^  "  If  we  look  around  in  our  churches,  where,"  asks 
Fr.  Eichardson^  "  are  the  vast  numbers  of  youths  that  have 
passed  through  our  schools  during  the  past  five  years?" 
What's  the  good  of  trying  to  get  them  to  Catholic  schools, 
he  despondingly  seems  to  say,  when  they  drift  away  from 
the  faith  in  such  numbers?  In  a  district  in  Scotland  (an 
esteemed  correspondent  informs  me)  in  which  Catholics  had 
been  fairly  numerous,  there  are  many  villages  where  the 
faith  is  gradually  dying  out.  I  gather  from  the  recent  census 
that,  although  in  one  large  town  (which  may  be  taken  as  a 
sample  of  many  great  centres  of  labour  where  Irish  usually 
congregate)  the  whole  population  has  largely  increased 
within  ten  years,  the  Catholics  have  decreased,  though  the 
Irish  are  known  to  be  a  prolific  race  !  Is  not  this  alarming  ? 
And  such  the  state  of  things  amongst  a  people  of  whom 
Cardinal  Manning^  wrote  some  years  ago: — "I  know  no 
country  in  the  world  more  truly  Christian,  nor  any  Catholic 
people  that  has  retained  its  faith  and  traditions  more 
inviolate  !"  And  these  are  the  people  that  are  giving  up 
their  faith  and  propagating  indifferentism  in  such  numbers 
within  a  few  hours'  journey  of  the  land  of  their  birth  ! 

Can  anything  more  be  done  than  is  being  done  to  stop 
this  state  of  things  ?  Are  there  enough  priests  in  Britain  to 
effectively  minister  to  their  Irish  people  ?  It  may  be  said 
there  are  as  many  as  can  be  decently  supported  amongst  the 
church-going  people :  and  these  priests,  in  most  cases,  are 
overworked.  But  there  is  manifestly  work  for  more  priests  ; 
and,  if  these  would  speak  effectively  and  work  with  sympa- 
thetic zeal,  a  superabundance  of  support  would  arise  for 
them,  even  from  these  now  ''  leaking  "  away. 

But  can  such  priests  be  got  ?  Can  even  enough  of  reliable 
vocations  be  had  for  the  Catholic  colleges  of  Britain  ?  If 
there  be  any  of  these  wants,  Ireland,  that  should  be  so  eager 

U.  E.  Record,  vol.  xi.,  661. 
»I.  E.  Record,  vol.  vii.,  155. 

^  Letter  to  the  late  Primate  of  All  Ireland.  His  Eminence  excludes 
Rome  as  outside  comparison. 


Catholic  Church  in  Great  Britain,  927 

for  the  preservation  of  the  faith  amongst  its  own  people,  and 
that  always  has  done  so  much  for  the  propagation  of  the 
faith  all  the  world  over,  would  not  be  appealed  to  in  vain. 

These  fleeting  years  are  most  momentous  ones  for  the 
Church  in  England  and  Scotland.  Both  these  countries  are 
now  getting  a  chance  such  as  they  did  not  get  since  the 
Keformation,  and  such  as  they  are  not  likely  to  get  again. 
The  Irish  people  have  been  mercilessly  driven  from  their 
own  country,  and  God  who  takes  good  out  of  evil,  uses  their 
very  oppression  to  rekindle  the  light  of  faith  amongst  their 
oppressors.  As  by  the  prayer  of  St.  Stephen,  St.  Paul  was 
converted,  so,  it  would  seem,  from  the  sufferings  of  the  Irish, 
God  wishes  to  bring  back  the  British  people  to  the  faith  of 
Becket  and  Augustine.  This  is  England's  chance,  therefore  ; 
and,  should  it  glide,  in  vain  may  another  be  expected. 

I  do  not  despair  of  a  happy  outcome.  The  conversion  of 
a  nation  is  pre-eminently  a  work  of  divine  grace,  and  God, 
who  out  of  the  stones  of  Jerusalem  can  raise  up  children  to 
Abraham,  will,  ere  long,  let  us  hope  and  pray,  stud  the  once 
grand  old  Catholic  plains  of  Britain  with  a  population 
intensely  Catholic  and  religious.  Though  vast  masses  of 
English  people  are  not  coming  over  to  the  Church,  the 
tremendous  prejudice  that  existed  some  years  ago  is  fast 
dying  out.  Who  would  have  thought  that  so  great  a  change 
could  come  over  the  minds  of  the  people  of  Great  Britain  on 
the  political  question,  as  has  taken  place  in  the  last  decade  of 
years  ?  May  not  a  similar  change  take  place  on  the  religious 
question,  even  in  the  next  decade  ?  The  English  people  are, 
at  bottom,  a  religiously  inclined,  if  a  worldly  people.  Let  us 
only  convince  them,  charitably,  that  they  are  in  error  on  a 
question  of  transcendent  importance,  and,  with  the  grace  of 
God,  their  conversion  will  be  soon  accomplished. 

John  Cubey,  P.P. 


[     928    ] 


THE    APOSTLESHIP    OF    PKAYEK :    ITS    OKIGIN, 
PKOGEESS,  AND  OKGANIZATION.^ 

THE  organized  devotion  to  the  Sacred  Heart,  known  as 
the  Apostleship  of  Prayer,  or  League  of  the  Sacred 
Heart,  is  now  so  widely  estabhshed  throughout  the  CathoHc 
world,  and  producing  such  marvellous  results,  that  we  think 
it  advisable  to  furnish  in  the  I.  E.  Kecokd  a  brief  account  of 
its  nature  and  advantages. 

ITS   MEANING. 

The  word  Apostleship  brings  with  it  the  idea  of  doing 
something  like  an  apostle.  Now,  one  of  the  first  and  primary- 
advantages  of  this  association  is,  that  it  makes  each  member 
virtually  an  apostle ;  that,  whilst  each  member  cannot  leave 
home,  and  go  into  distant  or  infidel  countries,  yet,  by  joining 
this  association  and  keeping  to  its  rules,  each  member  can 
gain  the  merit  of  an  apostle,  and  can  really  do  an  apostle's 
work.  This  fact  alone  is  sufficient  to  render  this  holy 
devotion  worthy  of  being  examined  and  fully  known. 

ITS   OEIGIN 

And  this  idea  of  apostleship  originated  in  a  foreign 
missionary  college.  Young  men  were  being  prepared  for 
the  foreign  missions,  in  the  Jesuit  College  of  Puy,  a  town 
about  seventy  miles  distant  from  Lyons,  in  the  south  of 
France.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  young  men's  minds 
were  entirely  bent  on  their  future  avocations  ;  and  it  is  need- 
less, too,  to  say  that  the  fathers  appointed  to  direct  the 
studies  and  spiritual  exercises  of  these  levites  were  men 
who  were  themselves  full  of  missionary  zeal.  To  the  eyes 
of  scholars  and  masters,  the  harvest  indeed  stood  ripe,  and 
the  labourers  were  few ;  and  the  question  most  at  their 
heart  was,  How  could  they  render  present  and  immediate 
assistance  in  that  harvest  field  ? 

1  We  have  much  pleasure  in  pubh'.shing  this  paper,  which  is  intended  as 
a  reply  to  several  inquiries  regarding  the  organization  of  "  The  Apostleship 
of  Prayer."— Ed.  I.  E.  R. 


The  AposUeship  of  Prayef,  d^c.  929 

On  the  feast  of  St.  Francis  Xavier,  the  great  missionary 
apostle,  in  the  year  1844,  the  problem  was  thus  solved  by 
Father  Gautrelet,  S.J.,  Spiritual  Director  of  the  College. 
He  pointed  out  that  by  consecrating  all  their  thoughts, 
words,  actions,  and  sufferings  to  the  Sacred  Heart,  and 
offering  them  to  the  Eternal  Father  for  the  interests  of  Jesus 
Christ,  they  could  find,  even  during  their  college  course, 
ample  opportunity  for  satisfying  their  missionary  zeal .  ' '  The 
proposal,"  we  read,  "  was  received  with  enthusiasm  by  the 
young  religious,  and  thus  were  laid  the  first  foundations  of 
The  AposUeship  of  Prayer,  which  was  destined  to  spread 
with  wondrous  rapidity  throughout  the  world,  and  to  inscribe 
on  its  registers  many  millions  of  associates."  At  present 
the  number  is  supposed  to  be  coming  towards  thirty 
million  souls,  and  by  the  time  the  little  mustard-seed 
reaches  its  golden  jubilee,  in  1894,  it  will  in  all  likelihood  be 
far  beyond  it. 

All  these  twenty  or  thirty  millions,  every  morning,  unite 
in  offering  up  all  their  thoughts,  words,  acts,  and  sufferings 
during  the  day  for  the  one  same  thing.  That  one  thing  to 
be  prayed  for  is  appointed  month  by  month;  and  the 
subject  of  prayer  for  the  month  is  approved,  if  not  directly 
chosen,  by  the  Supreme  Pontiff  himself.  It  is  not  alone  that 
they  pray — and  it  is  written  that  if  two  or  three  ask  anything 
of  the  Father  in  Christ's  name  it  will  be  given  to  them — 
they  do  more ;  they  offer  acts,  words,  and  sufferings  ;  and 
that  morning  act  or  offering  is  made  by  over  twenty  million 
of  people.  If  it  may  be  permitted  to  take  a  simile  from  the 
old  Grecian  warfare,  they  thus  form  a  Grecian  phalanx, 
irresistible  in  their  onset  at  whatever  point  they  attack. 

LEAGUE   OF  THE   SACKED   HEAKT. 

But  there  is  something  still  better.  The  Sacred  Heart 
of  our  Lord  is  not  dead,  but  living.  It  is  living  in  heaven  ; 
and  in  the  Blessed  Sacrament  of  the  Altar.  It  is  living, 
*'  always  living  to  make  intercession  for  us»"  That  is  its 
continual  and  ever-blessed  work — "  always  living  to  make 
intercession  for  us."  With  that  cry  of  the  Sacred  Heart 
going  up  from  the  multitudes  of  altars  on  earth,  and  which 
VOL.  XII.  3  N 


930  .    l^Jie  Aposileship  of  Prd^yef  :- 

is  "heard  for  its  reverence,"  the  cry  of  twenty  millions 
joins,  and  the  phials  of  the  angels  bear  this  glorious  incense 
before  God.  The  prayers,  works,  and  sufferings  of  the 
twenty  millions  of  people  become  transformed  and  glorified, 
because  of  their  connection  with  the  Sacred  Heart,  and  are 
thus  rendered  immeasurably  more  pleasing  before  God.  This, 
then,  is  the  League  of  the  Sacred  Heart ;  innumerable  souls 
joining  their  piteous  cry  with  the  "  strong  cry  "  of  the  Sacred 
Heart  of  Jesus  for  the  salvation  of  souls  and  the  triumph  of 
the  Church. 

Our  Blessed  Lady,  too,  is  joined  with  this  praying 
multitude ;  for  what  interest  of  the  Sacred  Heart  can  be 
indifferent  to  the  Heart  of  Mary?  This,  then,  is  the  reason 
why  in  the  morning  offering  the  associates  say  :  "  Oh,  Jesus  ! 
through  the  most  pure  Heart  of  Mary,  I  offer  the  prayers, 
works,  and  sufferings  of  this  day,  for  the  intentions  of  Thy 
divine  Heart,  and  I  offer  them  especially  for  the  mtention 
assigned  to  this  month  and  to  this  day."  An  associate  may 
not  always  know  the  general  intention  for  the  month ;  but, 
evidently  it  is  better  that  he  should,  as  in  that  case  his 
prayer,  in  all  likelihood,  will  be  more  earnest  and  more  fully 
from  the  heart. 

It  has  for  its  motto  or  legend  the  words  taken  from  our 
Blessed  Lord's  prayer—"  Thy  kingdom  come.''  "  By  this  we 
beg,"  says  the  little  catechism,  "  that  God  may  reign  in  our 
hearts  by  His  grace  in  this  life,  and  that  we  may  reign  with 
Him  for  ever  in  the  next."  That  is  what  the  associates  ask 
and  pray  for — that  God  may  reign  in  the  hearts  of  all,  but 
most  especially  in  their  own.  That  is  their  one  wish  and 
aim — that  the  kingdom  of  God  may  come.  If  that  were 
accomplished,  earth  indeed  would  need  no  more. 

A  TEMPOEAL  ADVANTAGE. 

Before  passing  from  this  view  of  the  subject,  there  is  one 
aspect  more  under  which  this  devotion  is  beautifully  attrac- 
tive and  consoling.  When  the  divine  Saviour  was  on  earth 
He  graciously  condescended  to  do  many  temporal  favours 
for  those  in  sorrow  and  distress,  as  well  as  to  cure  their 
Bouls*     The  poor  woman  from  the  PhiHstine  borders  brought 


Its  Origin,  Progress,  and  Organization.  931 

her  little  girl ;  the  Israelitish  father  brought  his  son ;  the 
ruler  asked  Him  for  his  boy — in  fact,  as  soon  as  they  knew 
Him  to  be  in  a  town,  they  brought  their  sick  from  the  whole 
country  round,  and  "  virtue  went  out  from  Him,"  ''  He  cured 
all."  Poor  human  kind  is  stricken  to-day  as  then.  The 
wail  of  the  sorrowing  heart  is  heard  in  our  time  as  it  was 
nineteen  centuries  ago.  The  appeal  is  sent  to  the  Central 
Director.  At  the  beginning  of  the  month  he  asks,  through 
The  Messenger,  the  prayers  of  the  associates  for  those  whom 
God  has  laid  a  heavy  hand  on ;  sometimes  it  is  sickness, 
sometimes  want  of  employment,  sometimes  an  erring  or  a 
lost  friend  ;  and  the  associates  put  themselves  in  the  place 
of  the  wounded  one,  and  in  their  morning  offering  they 
*'  bear  the  infirmities"  of  their  sorrowing  brother  or  sister 
before  the  Heart  of  Him  who  hath  known  how  to  have 
compassion  on  all. 

PBOGEESS    AND  APPEOVAL. 

The  first  thing  that  an  ecclesiastic  will,  as  a  rule,  ask,  is 
— Is  this  devotion  known  to  the  Church,  and  has  it  its 
sanction  ?  It  is  almost  unnecessary  to  answer  the  ques- 
tion ;  for,  in  the  Church  of  God  nothing  will  increase  and 
multiply  that  has  not  the  approval  of  the  Holy  See ;  and 
this  has  increased  and  multiplied,  it  might  fairly  be  said, 
beyond  precedent.  It  is  in  every  country  in  the  world,  and 
it  has  no  less  than  thirty  authorized  organs,  preaching  to 
nearly  as  many  races  and  peoples. 

In  its  lifetime  it  has  seen  but  two  Popes  almost ;  for  it 
might  scarcely  be  said  to  be  known  at  all  when  the  late 
Pope  Pius  of  venerable  memory  ascended  the  throne  in  1846. 
But  he  was  only  three  years  Pope  when  it  became  known  to 
him ;  and  it  was  while  he  was  an  exile  at-  Gaeta,  in  1849, 
that,  pondering  over  it,  reviewing  in  his  own  mind  its  nature 
and  its  evident  usefulness  in  the  Catholic  world,  that  he 
approved  of  it,  and  enriched  it  with  many  indulgences.  This 
gave  it  a  publicity  and  a  standing  that  hitherto  it  had  not. 
Keligious  communities  began  to  fraternize  with  it  ;  holy 
bishops  gave  it  welcome  to  their    dioceses;    and  zealous 


&32  ^he  Aposileship  of  PraijeY  .' 

priests  and  pious  lay  people  endeavoured  with  eagerness  and 
success  to  propagate  it. 

In  the  year  1861  appeared  the  first  number  of  the  organ 
dedicated  to  its  furtherance — The  Messenger  of  the  Sacred 
Heart.  In  this  our  century  no  cause  is  fully  equipped  that 
has  not  a  special  organ,  be  the  cause  political,  religious,  or 
industrial.  The  press  and  the  post-office  carries  the  know- 
ledge of  the  devotion  into  the  remotest  districts  ;  sometimes 
knocking  at  the  doors  of  the  learned,  the  wealthy,  and  the 
influential ;  sometimes  at  those  of  the  poor,  the  unlettered, 
and  the  afflicted;  but  bringing,  oh  !  such  a  beautiful 
message  alike  to  all — a  message  from  the  adorable,  human, 
living.  Sacred  Heart  of  Jesus  Christ. 

What  Catholic  could  refuse  to  receive  The  Messenger  (as 
it  was  beautifully,  almost  inspiredly,  styled)  of  the  Sacred 
Heart  ?  What  Catholic  heart  could  refuse  to  listen  to  a 
message  from  the  Heart  of  Jesus?  We  read  that  the 
monthly  issue  of  this  periodical  led  to  a  prodigious  de- 
velopment of  The  Apostleship  of  Prayer.  And  who  could 
doubt  it  ?     The  wonder  would  be  if  it  were  otherwise. 

Then  came  a  second  notice  and  sanction  of  the  Vicar  of 
our  divine  Lord  in  1866,  when  numerous  indulgences  were 
granted  to  the  devotion  by  him.  At  the  same  time  there 
came  the  best  intelligence  of  all,  that  the  League  of  the 
Sacred  Heart  had  *'  received  a  definite  organization,  through 
the  approval  of  the  statutes  by  the  congregatio7i  of  bishops 
and  regulars.'' 

The  present  holy  Pontiff,  even  before  he  was  Pope,  also 
gave  the  devotion  his  approval,  his  blessing,  and  his  sup- 
port. In  that  very  year  of  1866,  when  it  was  declared  a 
definite  organization,  he  wrote,  being  then  archbishop  of 
Perugia,  to  the  Central  Director  of  Italy  : — *'  The  Apostle- 
ship of  Prayer  is  so  beautiful  a  work,  and  unites  so  much 
fruitfulness  with  so  much  simplicity,  that  it  assuredly 
deserves  all  the  favours  of  ecclesiastical  authority.  I  rejoice 
to  see  it  established  in  my  diocese,  and  I  shall  never  tire  of 
promoting  it."  That  was  in  1866.  We  know  how  political 
matters  were  tending  at  that  time  in  Italy,  until  a  crisis 
came  in  1870.     Now,   a  bishop  during  that  time  would 


Liturgical  Questions.  933 

surely  look  to  the  best ;  nay,  even  to  a  miraculous  means,  if 
it  could  be  found,  of  preserving  his  flock  to  religion,  and 
religion  to  his  flock.  In  a  pastoral  which  the  present  Holy 
Father,  who  was  still  only  archbishop  of  Perugia,  wrote 
in  the  intermediate  time,  i.e.,  in  1868,  he  speaks  of  it 
thus  : — ''  The  plentiful  fruit  which  the  Holy  League  has 
already  produced,  no  less  than  its  rapid  extension,  shows 
plainly  how  pleasing  this  association  must  be  to  our 
Lord." 

Leo  XIII.  was  scarcely  a  year  on  the  throne  when  he 
perfected  and  confirmed  the  statutes  ;  and  during  the  twelve 
years  of  his  pontificate  he  has  issued  no  less  than  eight 
successive  briefs  or  rescripts,  each  conferring  new  and  more 
abundant  privileges  and  indulgences  on  the  association : 
that  is  to  say,  a  brief  or  rescript  almost  every  year.  This, 
surely,  is  abundant  and  superabundant  sanction,  and  cer- 
tainly no  stinted  advocacy.  Authorized  and  advocated  by 
such  high  authority,  no  one  need  have  a  dread  in  following 
or  furthering  its  work. 

The  "  simplicity  and  usefulness"  of  this  organization  will 
be  considered  in  another  paper. 

J.  CULLEN,  S.J. 


XiturQical  (Slueettone^ 


THE  "  QUARANT  ORE,   OR  FORTY  HOURS  ADORATION. 

*'  The  prayer  for  forty  hours  together  before  the  Blessed  Sacra- 
ment, in  memory  of  the  forty  hours  during  which  the  Sacred  Body 
of  Jesus  was  in  the  sepulchre,  began  in  Milan  about  the  year  1534. 
Thence  it  spread  into  other  cities  of  Italy,  and  was  introduced  into 
Eome,  for  the  first  Sunday  in  every  month,  by  the  Arch-confra- 
ternity of  the  Most  Holy  Trinity  of  the  Pilgrims  (founded  in  the 
year  1548,  by  St.  Philip  Neri)  ;  and  for  the  third  Sunday  in  the 
month,  by  the  Arch-confraternity  of  our  Lady  of  Prayer,  called 
La  Morte,  in  the  year  1551." 

"  The  devotion  of  the  Forty  Hours  was  established  for  ever  by 


934  Liturgical  Questions. 

Pope  Clement  VIII.  for  the  whole  course  of  the  year  in  regular 
continuous  succession  from  one  church  to  another,  commencing  on 
the  first  Sunday  in  Advent  with  the  chapel  in  the  Apostolical 
Palace,  as  appears  from  the  Constitution,  Graves  et  diuturnae, 
Nov.  25,  1592.  This  Pope  was  moved  to  establish  this  devotion 
by  the  public  troubles  of  Holy  Church,  in  order  that  day  and  night 
the  faithful  might  appease  their  Lord  by  prayer  before  the  Blessed 
Sacrament  solemnly  exposed,  imploring  there  His  divine  mercy. 
He  further  granted  holy  indulgences  to  those  who  should  assist  at 
prayer  during  this  solemn  exposition.  All  this  was  afterwards 
confirmed  by  Pope  Paul  V.  in  the  brief,  Gum  felicis  recordationis, 
May  10,  1606.'" 

In  course  of  time  some  irregularities  and  abuses  in 
connection  with  this  solemn  ceremony  were  allowed  to  grow 
up  in  various  districts,  notwithstanding  the  zeal  and  vigi- 
lance of  popes  and  bishops.  To  put  an  end  to  these,  and  to 
secure  uniformity,  at  least  in  the  churches  of  the  Eternal 
City  itself,  Clement  XI.  published,  January  21,  1705,  his 
famous  Instruction — called  after  him  the  Instructio  Clemen- 
tina— by  which  he  regulated,  down  to  the  minutest  detail, 
everything  connected  with  the  devotion  of  the  Forty  Hours. 
This  Instruction  has  the  force  of  law  in  the  City  of  Rome, 
and  must,  therefore,  be  exactly  observed  in  all  the  Eoman 
churches  as  often  as  this  devotion  takes  place  in  them. 
Outside  the  city  the  Instruction  has  only  a  directive  force ;  ^ 
but  it  is  superfluous  to  remark  that  it  is  a  highly  praise- 
worthy thing  to  follow  it  wherever  local  circumstances  and 
diocesan  laws  permit. 

The  indulgences  ^  attached  by  the  Sovereign  Pontiffs  to 

^  The  New  Raccolta.  English  translation,  authorized  by  the  Congre- 
gation of  Indulgences,  page  106.     Philadelphia,  1889. 

2 "  Verbo  dieam,  eamdem  (soil.  Instructionem)  quoad  urbem  vim 
praeceptivam  habere,  quoad  alias  Ecclesias  dumtaxat  directivam."   Gardellini. 

3  These  indulgences  are — (i.)  "  A  plenary  indulgence  to  all  who  being 
truly  penitent,  after  confession  and  communion,  shall  devoutly  visit  any 
church,  and  pray  there  for  peace  and  union  among  Christian  Princes,  for 
the  extirpation  of  heresy,  for  the  triumph  of  the  Church,  or  for  other 
favours,  as  the  devotion  of  each  one  may  suggest." 

(ii.)  "  Jn  indulgence  of  ten  years  and  as  many  quarantines  for  every 
visit  made  with  true  contrition  and  a  firm  purpose  of  going  to  confession. 
This  indulgence  was  confirmed  by  His  Holiness  Pope  Pius  IX.  by  a 
Rescript  of  the  Sacred  Congregation  of  Indulgences,  November  26,  1876 
{tind  can  he  gained  as  often  each  day  as  the  visit  is  repeated.  Wapelhorst, 
n.  219).  By  a  Rescript,  May  10, 1807,  Pius  VII.  declared  that  henceforth 
and  for  ever  in  the  churches  where  the  Blessed  Sacrament  is  exposed  all  the 
^Itars  are  privileged  during  the  time  of  the  exposition." — (Raccolta, ^d^gQ  107). 


Liturgical  Questio7is.  935 

this  devotion,  were,  like  the  Clementine  Instruction,  intended 
only  for  the  city  of  Kome,  and  cannot,  consequently,  be 
gained  anywhere  else  unless  by  virtue  of  a  special  privilege. 
Moreover,  this  privilege  was  at  first  granted  only  on  con- 
dition that  the  exposition  should  continue  uninterruptedly 
day  and  night,  for  the  space  of  about  forty  hours ;  that  it 
should  be  begun  and  ended  with  a  solemn  procession ;  and, 
in  a  word,  that  the  Clementine  Instruction  should  be  sub- 
stantially carried  out.  This  disciphne  is  now  greatly  modified. 
Hence  we  find  that,  in  answer  to  the  petition  of  the  Second 
Plenary  Council  of  Baltimore,^  the  Congregation  de  Propa- 
ganda Fide  extended  to  all  the  dioceses  of  the  United  States 
the  ordinary  indulgences  attached  to  the  exposition  in  Eome, 
at  the  same  time  sanctioning  the  interruption  of  the  exposi- 
tion during  the  night,  and  dispensing  with  the  procession  at 
the  will  of  the  pastor  of  each  church.^ 

The  Blessed  Sacrament  should  be  exposed  at  the  high 
altar,  the  drapery  of  which  should  be  white,  no  matter 
what  colour  the  office  of  the  day  requires.  Kelics  should 
not  be  allowed  to  remain  on  the  altar,  nor  images,  except 
such  as  form  part  of  the  structure,  and  except  also  images 
of  angels  supporting  candelabra.-^  The  altar-piece  and  any 
other  paintings  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  altar  should 
be  covered  with  white  hangings.* 

On  the  altar  and  about  it,  twenty  wax  candles,  according 
to  the  Clementine  Instruction,  should  be  kept  lighting  during 
the  whole  time  of  the  exposition.  Of  these,  eighteen  should 
be  on  the  altar  and  round  the  throne,  while  the  remaining 
two,  which  should  be  of  ponderous  size,  fixed  in  suitable 
candlesticks,  should  remain  in  plajio  in  front  of  the  altar, 

1  Acta  et  Decreta,  n.  376. 

2  VVapelho^st,^6^.  In  Ireland,  his  Lordship  the  Most  Rev.  Dr. Woodlock, 
obtained  from  the  same  Congregation,  in  1882,  a  Rescript  granting  a  similar 
privilege  to  the  Exposition  of  the  Forty  Hours  in  the  churches  in  the  diocese 
of  Ardagh.  By  this  Rescript  the  usual  indulgences  are  granted,  and  per- 
mission given  to  replace  the  Blessed  Sacrament  privately  in  the  tabernacle 
at  night,  and  expose  it  privately  in  the  morning.  See  Rescript  and 
interesting  correspondence  between  his  Lordship  and  Cardinal  Simeoni  in 
the  I.  E.  Record,  Third  Series,  vol.  iv.,  page  197,  &c, 

^  Listr.  Clemen. 

4  Martinucci,  \,  2,  c.  38,  n.  107, 


936  Liturgical  Questions. 

These  details  regarding  the  position  and  size  of  the  candles 
are  not  regarded  as  obligatory  even  in  Kome  ;^  still  less,  then, 
are  they  obligatory  in  other  places. 

With  regard  to  the  number  and  quality  of  the  candles, 
the  case  is  different.  There  is  no  doubt  that  this  provision 
must  be  observed  in  Rome  by  virtue  of  the  Instruction ; 
while  outside  of  Rome  the  reverence  due  to  the  Adorable 
Sacrament  requires  that  the  altar  of  exposition  should  be 
always  furnished  with  a  plentiful  supply  of  lighted  candles, 
and  that  at  least  those  on  the  altar  and  immediately  about 
the  throne  should  be  of  wax.  A  decree^  of  Innocent  IX. 
permits  solemn  exposition  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament  with  so 
few  as  ten  wax  candles.  But  there  should  be,  at  least,  this 
number.  Indeed,  there  is  hardly  any  church  or  parish  so 
poor  that  it  cannot  afford  to  keep  at  least  twenty  wax  candles 
burning  during  the  few  hours  that  this  solemn  ceremony 
lasts.  The  candles  should  be  arranged  as  far  as  possible 
before  the  mass  of  exposition,  and  should  be  lighted  before 
the  consecration.  During  the  time  the  candles  are  lighting, 
a  priest  or  cleric,  vested  in  soutane  and  surplice,  should  look 
after  them.^  Even  Regulars  should  wear  a  surplice  over 
their  habit  when  engaged  about  the  altar.* 

The  cross  remains  on  the  altar  as  usual  during  the  mass 
of  exposition.  During  the  mass  of  deposition  it  may  or 
may  not  remain  on  the  altar,  according  to  the  custom  of  each 
church  or  place.  But  at  all  other  times  it  must  be  removed. 
The  charts,  also,  must  not  be  permitted  to  remain  on  the 
altar  unless  during  mass.  The  Instruction  lays  down 
precise  rules  regarding  the  mass  to  be  celebrated  on  each  of 
the  three  days  included  in  the  Forty  Hours.  It  supposes, 
however,  that  each  mass  will  be  celebrated  solemnly ;  that 
is,  with  deacon  and  sub-deacon,  and  all  the  other  accessories 
of  a  solemn  mass ;  or  in  that  sense,  that  it  shall,  at  least,  be 
sung  by  the  celebrant  assisted  by  a  choir.^     But  as  in  very 


1  Gardellini,  Instr.  Clemen.,  sect.  6,  n.  3. 

2  May  20,  1682. 

*  Instr.  Clemen. 

*  Gardellim",  loc.  cit.,  sect.  7,  n.  2. 

5  Qardellini,  loc.  cit.,  sect.  15,  n.  ^. 


Liturgical  Questions.  937 

many  places  in  this  country,  and  in  others  similarly  situated, 
it  is  impossible  to  have  either  a  solemn  mass  or  a  missa 
cantata  on  occasion  of  the  Forty  Hours'  devotion,  it  will  be 
necessary  to  indicate  the  modifications  in  the  Instruction 
which  these  circumstances  call  for.  We  shall,  then,  point 
out — first,  what  the  Instruction  prescribes  for  those  places 
where  mass  can  be  celebrated  solemnly  in  the  sense  just 
explained ;  and  afterwards,  what  analogy,  the  general  prin- 
ciples of  the  Liturgy,  and  various  decisions,  prescribe  for 
places  where  only  a  private  mass  can  be  celebrated. 

I.   WHEN   MASS   CAN  BE    CELEBRATED    SOLEMNLY. 

On  the  first  and  third  days  a  solemn  votive  mass  of  the 
Blessed  Sacrament  should  be  said,  and  on  the  intermediate 
day  also  a  solemn  votive  mass  pro  pace,  or  for  such  other 
necessity  as  the  Pope  or  the  bishop  of  the  place  may  have 
ordered  for  the  time.^  There  are,  however,  certain  days 
whose  offices  are  so  highly  privileged  as  not  to  admit  of  the 
celebration  of  a  solemn  votive  mass  even  on  such  a  solemn 
occasion  as  the  devotion  of  the  Forty  Hours.  These  days,  as 
defined  by  the  Instruction,  and  by  subsequent  decisions, 
are: — 1.  Sundays  and  feasts  of  the  first  and  second  class. 
2.  Ash  Wednesday,  and  the  Monday,  Tuesday,  and  Wednes- 
day of  Holy  Week.^  3.  All  the  days  within  the  Octaves  of 
the  Epiphany,  Easter,  and  Pentecost  ;  and  4  The  eves  of 
Christmas  and  Pentecost. 

On  these  days  the  mass  of  the  day  is  celebrated,  and 
under  the  same  conclusion  with  its  prayer  is  said  the  votive 
prayer  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  or  pro  pace. ^  All  other  com- 
memorations are  omitted,  except  that  of  an  occurring  Sunday 
or  feast  of  double  or  semi-double  rite.*  But  even  when  such 
a  commemoration  as  this  is  to  be  made,  the  votive  prayer  is 
said  immediately  after  the  prayer  of  the  mass,  and  under  the 

1  Instr.  Clemen.     Gardellini,  loc.  cit.,  sect.  13. 

2  On  the  last  three  days  of  Holy  Week  the  devotion  of  the  Forty 
Hours  is  strictly  forbidden. 

»  Instr.  Clemen. 

*  S.R.C.,  18  Maii,  1883,  ad  Episc.  Marian  opolitanus  (apud  Wapelhorst, 
n.  220)  Gardellini,  loc.  cit,  sect.  12,  n.  9.  De  Herdt,  torn.  1,  n.  45.  Merati, 
p.  1,  tit.  4,  n.  44. 


938  Liturgical  Questions. 

same  conclusion.^  In  the  mass  of  these  days  no  other 
changes  are  to  be  introduced  on  account  of  the  exposition. 
They  are  to  be  celebrated  with  or  without  the  Gloria  and 
Credo,  and  with  a  last  Gospel  other  than  the  beginning  of 
St.  John,  according  to  the  rubrics  general  and  special  re- 
ferring to  them.^ 

Except  on  these  days  the  votive  masses  as  already 
mentioned  are  to  be  said.  The  votive  mass  of  the  Blessed 
Sacrament  to  be  said  is  that  which  is  found  among  the  votive 
masses  at  the  end  of  the  missal. s  Within  the  Octave  of 
Corpus  Christi,  however,  the  mass  of  the  feast  is  said,  with 
the  sequence  and  only  one  prayer.*  The  solemn  votive 
masses  on  the  first  and  third  days  admit  no  commemoration 
whatsoever,  even  of  an  occurring  Sunday.^  The  Gloria  and 
Credo  are  said,  the  Preface  is  de  Nativitate,  and  the  last 
Gospel  is  always  the  beginning  of  St.  John. 

The  mass  pro  pace  admits  the  commemoration  of  the 
Blessed  Sacrament  only.  This  commemoration  is  said  imder 
the  same  conclusion  with  the  prayer  of  the  mass.  In  this 
mass,  which  is  celebrated  in  violet  vestments,  the  Gloria  is 
always  omitted ;  the  Credo  is  also  omitted,  unless  on  Sundays ; 
and  the  Preface,  since  there  is  none  proper,  is  selected 
according  to  the  ordinary  rules.  Hence,  on  week-days  the 
Preface  will  be  de  octava,  de  tempore,  or  de  communi ;  on 
Sundays,  de  octava,  de  tempore,  or  de  Trinitate.  Should 
Ash-Wednesday  happen  to  be  one  of  the  three  days,  the 
Prayers,  Preface,  and  Pater  Noster  are  sung  in  the  ferial 
tone,  and  the  prayer  super  populum  is  said  after  the  Post- 
Communions.  ° 

II.  WHEN  MASS  CANNOT  BE  CELEBEATED  SOLEMNLY. 

Here  again,  two  cases  are  to  be  distinguished.  Either  the 
days  of  exposition  or  any  of  them  admit  of  private  votive 

^  Gardellini,  ibidem.  .  . 

2  AVapelhorst,  n.  2,  20. 

3  Gardellini,  loc.  cit,  sect.  12,  n.  15.     Wapelhorst,  loc.  cit. 
^  lidein,  ibidem. 

5  "  Idque  etiam  si  incidat  in  Dominicam  non  solum  in  ecclesiis 
coUegiatis,  sed  itam  in  aliis."     Martinucci,  1.  2,  c.  38,  n.  107.     Wapelhorst. 

6  S.  R.  C,  loc.  cit. 


Liturgical  Questions.  939 

masses,  or  they  do  not.^  In  the  former  hypothesis  a  votive 
mass  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament  should  be  celebrated  on  the 
first  and  third  days,  and  on  the  intermediate  day,  a  votive 
mass  pro  pace,  or  for  any  other  necessity,  according  to  the 
directions  of  the  bishop  of  the  place. 

These  masses,  since  they  enjoy  no  privileges  over  ordinary 
votive  masses,  are  subject  to  precisely  the  same  rules  in  their 
celebration.  The  Gloria  and  Credo  are  always  omitted,  the 
last  Gospel  is  the  beginning  of  St.  John,  and  at  least  three 
prayers  must  be  said,  while  none  of  the  prescribed  prayers 
can  be  omitted. 

In  the  latter  hypothesis — that  is,  when  a  private  votive 
mass  cannot  be  said  on  one  or  more  of  the  days  of  exposition 
— the  mass  of  the  day  must  be  said  with  a  commemoration  of 
the  Blessed  Sacrament.  This  commemoration  must  be 
omitted,  however,  on  doubles  of  the  first  and  second  class  on 
Palm  Sunday  and  on  the  eves  of  Christmas  and  Pentecost.^ 
Its  place  when  made  is  after  all  the  prayers  prescribed  by 
the  rubrics,  but  before  such  as  may  be  ordered  by  a  bishop 
— orationes  imperatae} 

All  private  masses  celebrated  in  the  church  during  the 
days  of  exposition,  whether  at  the  altar  of  exposition  or  at 
another,  take  a  commemoration  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament, 
subject  to  the  limitations  and  regulations  just  mentioned.* 
The  bell  should  not  be  rung  during  the  exposition,  unless, 
perhaps,  at  the  principal  mass.^ 

At  the  altar  of  exposition  only  the  mass  of  the  first  and 
third  days,  that  is,  the  mass  of  exposition  and  the  mass  of 
reposition,  as  they  are  called,  should  be  celebrated.®  There 
are  two  evident  exceptions,  however :  one  founded  on  a  long- 
existing  custom  of  celebrating  at  the  altar  of  exposition  ;  the 

1  Private  votive  masses  are  forbidden — 1,  on  all  Sundays  and  on  feasts 
of  double  rite ;  2,  within  the  octaves  of  Christmas,  Epiphany,  Easter,  Pente- 
cost and  Corpus  Christi  ;  3,  on  Ash- Wednesday  and  on  all  the  days  of 
Holy  Week  ;  4,  on  the  eves  of  Christmas,  Epiphany,  and  Pentecost  ; 
5,  on  the  Commemoration  of  All  Souls. 

2  De  Herdt,  torn.  1,  n.  73,  2. 

3  Ibi.,  n.  4. 

4  Ihi,  n.  2. 

5  Instr.  Clemen^ 


940  Liturgical  Questions. 

other  founded  on  necessity ;  namely,  if  there  is  not  a  second 
altar  in  the  church.^  The  same  is  to  be  said  of  the  distribution 
of  communion  as  of  the  celebration  of  mass.  It  should  not 
take  place  at  the  altar  of  exposition,  unless  sanctified  by 
custom  or  justified  by  necessity. 

Kequiem  masses  are  forbidden  in  a  church  in  which  the 
Blessed  Sacrament  is  exposed,  unless  on  the  commemoration 
of  All  Souls,  when  violet  vestments  are  to  be  used.""^ 

THE   FIRST  DAY. 

The  mass  of  the  first  day  is  selected  according  to  the 
directions  just  given.  The  ceremonies,  until  after  the  com- 
munion of  the  celebrant,  are  precisely  the  same  as  in  an 
ordinary  mass.  Two  large  Hosts,  however,  are  consecrated ; 
one  for  the  mass  itself,  the  other  for  the  exposition. 

The  preparations  for  the  mass  of  exposition  include,  besides 
the  things  required  for  the  mass,  those  also  that  are  required 
for  the  procession — namely,  a  cope  of  the  same  colour  as  the 
vestments ;  a  white  humeral  veil,  no  matter  of  what  colour 
the  vestments  are  ;  the  processional  cross,  the  monstrance,  a 
second  large  Host,  a  second  censer,  candles  for  those  who  are 
to  take  part  in  the  procession ;  four,  six,  or  eight  lanterns,  if 
the  procession  is  to  go  outside ;  the  large  canopy  for  the 
procession  proper;  and  the  small  canopy,  or  ombrellino,  which 
is  extended  over  the  celebrant,  while  carrying  the  Blessed 
Sacrament  between  the  altar  and  the  large  canopy. 

THE   MASS. 

When  the  celebrant  has  consumed  the  Precious  Blood  he 
places  the  chalice  on  the  corporal,  and  the  sub-deacon  covers 
it  with  the  pall.  The  deacon  and  sub-deacon  then  genuflect 
and  change  places,  and  again  genuflect  along  with  the 
celebrant.  Meantime  the  master  of  ceremonies  brings  the 
monstrance  from  the  credence  to  the  epistle  side  of  the  altar, 
and  hands  it  to  the  deacon.  The  latter  removes  the  white 
veil,  which  is  carried  to  the  credence  by  the  master  of  cere- 
monies or  by  an  acolyte,'^  and  places  the  monstrance  on  the 

1  Gardellini,  loc.  cit.,  sect.  12,  5. 

2  DejHerdt,  torn  1,  n.  49. 

'  Martinucci,  1.  2,  c.  38,^n.  36. 


Liturgical  Questions.  941 

corporal.  He  then  fixes  in  its  place  the  lunette  holding  the 
consecrated  Host,  and  places  the  monstrance  on  the  back  part 
of  the  corporal,  taking  care  that  it  faces  outwards.  All  three 
now  genuflect,  and  the  sacred  ministers  change  places,  the 
deacon  returning  to  the  celebrant's  left  and  the  sub-deacon 
to  his  right.  On  their  arrival  they  again  genuflect,  the  sub- 
deacon  uncovers  the  chalice,  and  the  celebrant  purifies  the 
corporal  at  the  place  where  the  second  Host  rested.  During 
the  remainder  of  the  mass  the  rules  laid  down  for  a  mass  in 
presence  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament  exposed  must  be  observed. 
The  cruets,  &c.,  are  no  longer  kissed,  salutations  are  omitted, 
and  even  the  celebrant  genuflects  each  time  he  comes  to  the 
centre  of  the  altar  or  departs  from  it. 

THE   PROCESSION. 

When  the  celebrant  has  finished  reading  the  last  Gospel, 
he  goes  to  the  centre  of  the  altar  accompanied  by  the  sacred 
ministers,  and  all  genuflect  on  one  knee,  and  go  by  the  lateral 
steps  to  the  bench.  Arrived  at  the  bench,  they  remove  their 
maniples,  and  the  celebrant  the  chasuble  in  addition,  in 
place  of  which  he  puts  on  a  cope  corresponding  in  colour  with 
the  other  vestments.^ 

The  two  thurifers  now  approach  the  celebrant,  having 
their  censers  replenished  with  fire.  When  passing  the  centre 
of  the  altar  they  genuflect  on  both  knees,  and  when  they 
come  in  front  of  the  celebrant  they  stand  in  single  file — alter 
post  alterum}  The  celebrant,  having  assumed  the  cope,  puts 
incense  into  the  censers,  but  does  not  bless  it,  and  all  proceed 
in  front  of  the  altar,  genuflect  on  both  knees  on  the  pave- 
ment, and,  rising,  kneel  on  the  first  step.  In  this  position  the 
celebrant  incenses  the  Blessed  Sacrament  with  three  double 
swings,  making,  as  the  ministers  also  do,  a  profound  inclina- 
tion of  the  head  before  and  after.  The  white  humeral  veil 
is  now  put  on  the  shoulders  of  the  celebrant,  who,  together 
with  the  deacon  and  sub-deacon  ascends  the  steps.  The 
deacon  mounts  the  predella,  while  the  others  kneel  on  the 

1  While  the  ministers  are  at  the  bench,  the  charts,  missal,  and  stand 
should  be  remevsd  from  the  altar  by  the  sacristan  or  an  acolyte. 
'•*  Martinucci,  loc.  cit.,  n.  51. 


942  Liturgical  Questions. 

front  edge.  Having  genuflected  on  the  predella,  the  deacon 
takes  hold  of  the  monstrance  with  both  hands,  the  right 
being  towards  the  upper  part  of  the  stem,  and  the  left  under 
the  foot,  and  the  front  of  the  monstrance  being  next  himself- 
Holding  it  thus,  he  turns  towards  the  celebrant,  who  inclines 
his  head  to  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  and,  still  kneeling,  re- 
ceives the  monstrance  in  both  hands  covered  with  the  ends  of 
the  humeral  veil.  The  deacon  having  placed  the  monstrance 
in  the  hands  of  the  celebrant,  genuflects  on  one  knee 
on  the  predella  towards  the  Host  in  the  monstrance,  and 
immediately  takes  his  place  at  the  right  of  the  celebrant. 
The  latter  with  the  sub-deacon  rises,  and  both  are  accom- 
panied on  to  the  predella  by  the  deacon.  On  the  predella 
aH-  three  turn  towards  the  people,  the  deacon  and  sub-deacon 
keeping  their  respective  places  at  the  right  and  left  of  the 
celebrant.  As  soon  as  they  have  turned  round,  the  chanters 
intone  the  Fange  lingua,  and  the  procession  moves  off. 

The  sacristan  or  an  acolyte  will  now  take  the  small 
canopy,  extend  it,  and  hold  it  over  the  celebrant  while  he 
moves  from  the  altar  to  the  large  canopy.  Those  who  carry 
the  large  canopy  will  have  it  in  position  at  his  approach. 

The  procession,  which  forms  part  of  the  Forty  Hours' 
Devotion,  is  supposed  to  be  confined  to  the  church.^  It  is, 
however,  permitted  to  proceed  a  short  distance  outside  the 
church,  if  the  interior  does  not  afford  sufficient  space.^  When 
the  procession  is  confined  to  the  church  it  goes  from  the 
altar  by  the  right,  or  gospel  side,  and  returns  by  the  left,  or 
epistle  side  ;  but  when  it  leaves  the  precincts  of  the  church 
it  proceeds  direct  from  the  altar  to  the  door  by  the  centre  of 
the  nave ;  and,  having  emerged  from  the  door,  it  goes  away 
by  the  right,  returns  to  the  door  by  the  left,  and  reaches  the 
altar  again  by  the  same  path  by  which  it  came  from  the 
altar  to  the  door.^ 

The  procession  is  composed  of  lay  confraternities,  if  there 
be  any  attached  to  the  church  ;  Begulars,  should  any  take 
part  in  the  ceremonies ;  and  the   secular  clergy.     When  a 

^  Imtr,  Clemen. 

^  Ibidem. 

2  Gardellini,  loc.  cit.,  sect.  20,  u.  16. 


Liturgical  Questions.  948 

large  number  are  to  take  part  in  the  procession  they  should 
begin  to  leave  their  places  at  such  a  time  as  will  enable  the 
whole  procession  to  be  formed  when  the  celebrant  is  ready 
to  accompany  it,  or  shortly  after  he  is  ready.  With  this 
object  it  is  permitted  to  begin  to  form  the  procession  any 
time  after  the  consecration,  or  even  before  it,  if  necessary.^ 

The  lay  confraternities  walk  at  the  head  of  the  proces- 
sion, each  preceded  by  its  own  cross  carried  by  one  of  its 
members,  having  on  either  hand  one  or  two  members  with 
lighted  torches.^  If  the  Eegular  clergy  who  are  present 
form  one  or  more  distinct  bodies,  they  follow  the  laity,  each 
Order  having  its  cross  borne  in  front  of  itself.^  The  secular 
clergy  occupy  the  rear,  being  next  the  Blessed  Sacrament- 
In  front  of  the  secular  clergy  the  cross  of  the  church  is  borne 
by  an  acolyte  or  a  sub-deacon,  vested  only  in  soutane  and 
surplice.  He  is  accompanied  by  two  acolytes,  bearing  lighted 
candles  or  torches.  After  these  follow  the  clergy,  two  and 
two,  also  carrying  lighted  candles,  each  in  the  outward 
hand.  In  front  of  the  canopy  there  should  be,  at  least,  eight 
priests  or  acolytes ;  and  if  the  procession  is  to  go  outside  the 
church  there  should  be  on  each  side  of  the  canopy  two, 
three,  or  four  acolytes,  with  lighted  candles  in  lanterns, 
carried  on  staves.  The  canopy  is  borne  by  the  senior  priests, 
or,  if  need  be,  by  the  most  worthy  laymen.*  Under  the 
canopy  walks  the  celebrant,^  carrying  the  monstrance  raised 
up,  so  that  the  Host  is  about  the  height  of  his  eyes.  He  is 
accompanied  on  the  right  and  left  by  the  deacon  and  sub- 
deacon,  and  in  front  of  him  walk  the  two  thurifers,  turned 
towards  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  which  they  continue  to 
incense  during  the  whole  time  of  the  procession.  The  cele- 
brant and  sacred  ministers  recite  alternately  psalms  or  hymns. 


1  Instr.  Clemen.^  sect.  20,  n.  1.  Those  who  take  their  places  in  the 
procession  after  the  Host  has  been  put  into  the  monstrance  genuflect  on 
both  knees  in  front  of  the  altar. 

2  Martinucci,  loc.  cit.,  u.  60. 
^  Gardellini,  loc.  cit. 

*  Martinucci,  loc.  cit.,  n.  62. 

^  The  celebrant  of  the  mass  of  exposition  should  carry  the  Blessed 
Sacrament  in  the  procession— unless  in  one  case,  namely,  when  the  bishop 
of  the  diocese  is  present,  to  whom  this  privilege  would  then  belong. 


944  Liturgical  Quesiionis. 

When  the  procession  returns  to  the  altar,  the  cross-bearer 
places  the  cross  in  some  convenient  place  on  the  epistle  side, 
the  acolytes  lay  their  candles  on  the  credence,  and  the 
clergy  either  divide  into  two  lines,  between  which  the 
Blessed  Sacrament  is  borne  to  the  altar,  all  genuflecting  as 
the  canopy  approaches ;  or,  without  making  any  reverence 
to  the  altar,  they  return  to  their  places  in  choir ;  and  here  also 
they  kneel  at  the  approach  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament.^ 

The  large  canopy  is  borne  only  to  the  entrance  to  the 
sanctuary,  whence  it  was  carried  at  the  beginning  of  the 
procession.  As  soon  as  the  celebrant  emerges  from  beneath 
it  the  small  canopy  is  held  over  him  until  he  reaches  the 
altar.  Those  who  carried  the  large  canopy  having  con- 
signed it  to  the  persons  who  are  charged  with  removing  it, 
receive  lighted  candles,  and  kneel  in  a  semicircle  inside  the 
sanctuary,  if  in  surplice ;  but  outside  the  rails,  if  only  in 
secular  dress. ^ 

Having  arrived  at  the  altar  steps,  the  celebrant  places 
the  monstrance  in  the  hands  of  the  deacon,  who  receives  it 
kneeling  on  the  pavement.  The  deacon,  having  received 
the  monstrance,  rises  from  his  knees,  and,  without  turning 
towards  the  altar,  waits  until  the  celebrant  has  adored  the 
Blessed  Sacrament.  He  then  ascends  the  altar,  and  places 
the  monstrance  on  the  throne  prepared  for  it,  genuflects  on 
one  knee  on  the  predella,  and  kneels  on  the  lowest  step  at 
the  celebrant's  right. 

The  chanters  immediately  intone  the  Tantum  ergo,  and  at 
Genitori,  the  celebrant — from  whose  shoulders  the  humeral 
veil  should  have  been  removed  as  soon  as  he  gave  the 
monstrance  into  the  hands  of  the  deacon — and  the  sacred 
ministers  rise,  and  the  former  puts  incense  into  the  censer, 
which  is  presented  by  one  of  the  thurifers,  but  does  not 
bless  it. 

Again  all  kneel  on  the  first  step,  and  the  celebrant, 
having  received  the  censer  from  the  deacon,  who  offers  it 
without  kissing  the  chains  or  the  celebrant's  hands,  incenses 


^  Martinucci,  loc.  cit.  n.  67. 
'  Bauldry,  apud  Baldeschi. 


Liturgical  Questions.  945 

the  Blessed  Sacrament  with  the  usual  number  of  swings,  and 
with  the  usual  inclinations. 

The  hymn  is  not  followed  by  the  versicle  Fanem  de 
coelo,  &c.,  but  immediately  by  the  Litany  of  Saints,  which  is 
sung  by  two  chanters,  kneeling  in  the  middle  of  the  choir, 
the  choir  singing  the  responses.  At  the  end  of  the  psalm 
which  is  placed  after  the  Litany,  the  celebrant  sings  the 
versicles.  At  Doininus  vohiscum  he  rises,  sings  the  prayers, 
standing  with  his  hands  joined,  and  at  the  end  of  the 
prayers  again  kneels,  sings  the  versicle  Domine  exaudi,  &c. 
The  chanters  then  sing  Exaudiat  nos,  &c.,  and  the  celebrant 
adds  in  a  subdued  voice,  Fidelium  animae,  &c.  After  a  brief 
delay  the  clergy  return  to  the  sacristy,  in  the  usual  order, 
making  a  double  genuflection  in  front  of  the  altar.  The 
celebrant  and  sacred  ministers  remain  uncovered  until  they 
get  beyond  the  view  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament. 

If  for  any  reason  there  cannot  be  a  procession,  none  of  the 
other  ceremonies  are  to  be  omitted.  Hence  when  mass  is 
finished,  the  celebrant  assumes  the  cope  as  usual,  puts 
incense  into  one  censer,  and  coming  in  front  of  the  altar 
genuflects  on  both  knees,  as  do  also  the  deacon  and  sub- 
deacon,  if  a  solemn  mass  has  been  celebrated.  Then 
kneeling  on  the  first  step  he  incenses  the  Blessed  Sacrament. 
The  monstrance  is  placed  on  the  throne  by  the  deacon,  by 
another  priest  in  surplice  and  stole,  or,  in  defect  of  either,  by 
the  celebrant  himself.  The  Pange  lingua  is  sung.  At  Genitori 
the  Blessed  Sacrament  is  again  incensed,  and  the  Litany  and 
prayers  are  sung  as  above,  or  recited,  if  they  cannot  be 
sung.^ 

THE    SECOND   DAY. 

Wherever  it  is  customary  during  this  devotion  to  replace 
the  Blessed  Sacrament  in  the  tabernacle  at  night  and  expose 
it  again  in  the  morning,  both  reposition  and  exposition  may 
be  accompanied  with  the  singing  of  the  Pange  lingua^  and  the 
prayer  Deus  qui  nobis,  and  the  reposition  by  Benediction  in 
addition,  or  they  may  take  place  without  any  special  cere- 

1  Wapelhorst,  Martinucci,  Gardellini,  &c. 
VOL.  XII.  3  O 


946  Liturgical  Questions. 

monies,    according    to    diocesan    statutes   and   established 
customs. 

The  mass  on  the  second  day,  according  to  the  Clementine 
Instruction,  should  be  a  solemn  votive  pro  pace,  or  for  what- 
ever other  necessity  the  Pope  or  bishop  may  order  for  the 
time.  The  days  on  which  this  votive  mass  is  permitted 
have  been  already  pointed  out,  and  full  explanations  given 
as  to  what  mass  is  to  be  said  in  its  place,  as  well  on  days 
which  exclude  a  solemn  votive  mass  as  in  circumstances 
which  exclude  a  solemn  mass  of  any  kind.  These  expla- 
nations, therefore,  need  not  be  here  repeated,  though  it 
may  be  useful  to  call  attention  again  to  one  or  two  points  in 
connection  with  the  place  and  manner  of  celebrating  this 
mass. 

The  mass  of  the  second  day  should  not  be  celebrated  at 
the  altar  of  exposition,  nor  even  at  the  altar  where  there  is  a 
tabernacle  containing  the  Blessed  Sacrament.'^  Of  course 
necessity,  which  recognises  no  law,  and  custom,  the  best 
interpreter  of  the  law,  justify  a  departure  from  this 
direction.^  The  mass  pro  pace,  when  it  is  said,  requires 
violet  vestments,  excludes  the  Gloria  always,  and  the  Credo, 
except  on  Sundays.  The  bell  is  not  rung  during  the  mass 
whatever  it  may  be.^ 

THE   THIED  DAY. 

The  Blessed  Sacrament  is  exposed  early  on  the  morning 
of  the  third  day,  as  on  that  of  the  second,  and  preparations 
are  made  for  celebrating  mass  at  the  altar  of  exposition. * 
These  preparations  are  precisely  the  same  as  those  for  the 


1  "  Haec  vero  missa  votiva  solemnis  cantanda  est  in  altari  ab  eo  in  quo 
fit  expositio  e-t  ab  eo  in  quo  adest  tabernaculum  cum  incluso  ISacramento 
diverso."     {Inst.  Clemen.') 

2  Gardellini,  loc.  cit,  sect.  12. 

3  Baldeschi,  Martinucci,  loc.  cit.,  n.  23. 

*  Martinucci  (Inc.  cit.,  n.  24)  is  of  opinion  that,  whenever  the  Blessed 
Sacrament  is  placed  in  the  tabernacle  overnight,  final  reposition  should  take 
place  in  the  evening, and  not  in  the  morning.  This  opinion  even  Wapelhorst 
seems  to  adopt.  It  is,  however,  merely  an  opinion,  and  one,  moreover,  for 
which  there  would  seem  to  be  no  foundation  in  analogy  or  in  custom. 


Liturgical  Questions.  947 

mass  of  the  first  day,  except  that  on  this  occasion  there  is  no 
second  Host,  and  no  monstrance  to  be  prepared.  For  the 
procession  on  this  day  the  same  preparations  are  made  as  for 
the  procession  on  the  day  of  exposition. 

The  mass  is  selected  according  to  the  directions  already 
given,  and  is  celebrated  with  all  the  ceremonies  proper  to  a 
mass  sung  or  said  in  presence  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament 
exposed. 

After  finishing  the  last  Gospel,  the  celebrant  and  sacred 
ministers  genuflect  on  the  predella,  and  proceed  to  the  bench, 
where  the  celebrant  exchanges  the  chasuble  for  a  cope,  and 
all  lay  aside  their  maniples.  Incense  is  not  put  into  the 
censers,  as  on  the  first  day.  Instead,  the  celebrant  having 
assumed  the  cope,  all  go  at  once  to  the  front  of  the  altar, 
make  a  double  genuflection  on  the  pavement,  and  rise  to 
kneel  on  the  first  step. 

Immediately  the  two  chanters  begin  the  Litany,  which 
is  continued  by  them  and  the  choir  alternately,  as  on  the 
first  day.  During  the  Litany,  or  before  it,  if  necessary,  the 
procession  is  formed,  all  genuflecting  on  both  knees  to  the 
Blessed  Sacrament. 

After  the  versicle  Domine  exaudi  orationem  meam,  and 
before  Dominus  vobiscum,  the  celebrant  and  ministers  rise, 
the  two  thurifers  approach,  and  incense  is  put  into  both 
censers  without  any  blessing.  The  celebrant  and  ministers 
again  kneel,  and  the  former  incenses  the  Blessed  Sacrament 
as  usual.  The  humeral  veil  is  now  put  on  the  shoulders  of 
the  celebrant,  who,  with  the  sub-deacon,  rises,  ascends  the 
steps,  and  kneels  on  the  edge  of  the  predella.  The  deacon 
goes  up  with  them,  but  does  not  kneel.  Instead,  he  goes  up  to 
the  predella,  genuflects,  but  so  that  he  does  not  turn  his  back 
on  the  celebrant,  takes  down  the  monstrance  from  the  throne, 
and  places  it  on  a  corporal  spread  on  the  middle  of  the 
altar.  He  again  genuflects,  and  places  the  monstrance  in  the 
hands  of  the  celebrant  according  to  the  directions  given  for 
the  procession  of  the  first  day.  The  celebrant  having 
received  the  monstrance  in  both  hands,  which  should  be 
covered  with  the  ends  of  the  humeral  veil,  ascends  the 
predella  in  company  with  the  sacred  ministers,  and  all  turn 


948  Liturgical  Questions, 

towards  the  people.  The  chanters  intone  the  Pange  lingua, 
and  the  procession  begins  to  move. 

This  procession  is  in  all  respects  similar  to  that  of  the 
first  day.  The  same  rules,  therefore,  as  to  precedence, 
among  those  who  take  part  in  it,  the  limits  within  which  it 
is  to  be  confined,  the  direction  in  which  it  is  to  set  out  and 
return,  and,  in  a  word,  as  to  its  minutest  detail,  are  to  be 
followed  in  this  as  in  the  former.  When,  after  the  return  of 
the  procession,  the  deacon  has  placed  the  monstrance  on  the 
altar,  the  chanters  begin  the  Tantum  ergo.  At  Genitori 
genitoque,  the  Blessed  Sacrament  is  incensed,  and  at  the  end 
of  the  hymn  the  versicle  and  response,  Fanem  de  coelo,  &c. 
Omne  delectamentum,  &c.,  are  sung,  to  each  of  which  in 
paschal  time  and  during  the  Octave  of  Corpus  Christi  an 
Alleluia  is  added. 

The  celebrant  now  rises,  and  sings,  without  Dominus 
^  vohiscum,  the  prayer  Deus  qui  nobis,  and  the  others  which 
follow.  Having  finished  the  prayers,  he  again  kneels,  sings 
the  versicles  and  responses  alternately  with  the  choir,  until 
he  comes  to  Fidelium  animae,  which  he  says  in  a  subdued 
tone.  The  humeral  veil  is  again  put  on  his  shoulders,  and, 
assisted  by  the  sacred  ministers,  he  gives  Benediction  as 
usual.  After  the  Benediction,  the  Blessed  Sacrament  is 
replaced  in  the  tabernacle,  and  the  ministers  and  choir  leave 
the  church  in  the  usual  order. 

When  there  cannot  be  a  procession,  it  alone  is  omitted ; 
everything  else  is  observed. 


[    949    ] 

2)ocument6* 


Decbees  of  The  Congeegation  of  Eites. 

SUMMARY. 

1.  When  a  simplified  double  concurs  with  a  privi- 
leged SUNDAY — WHICH  SHOULD  PRECEDE  IN  THE  ORDER 

of  commemorations? 

2.  Should  the  second  vespers  be  of  the  octave  day  of 
corpus  christi,  on  the  eve  of  the  feast  of  the 
sacred  heart? 

3.  Should  the  colour  of  the  vestments  for  the  feast 
of  the  sacred  heart  be  white,  whether  the  mass 
BE  Egrediminiy  with  the  preface  of  the  nativity,  or 
Miserehitur,  with  the  preface  of  the  cross. 

NiTRIEN. 

Emus  Dnus  Augustinus  Eoshovanyi  Episcopus  Nitrien. 
Sacrae  Eituum  Congregationi  sequentia  Dubia  pro  opportuna 
declaratione  humillime  subiecit,  nimirum  : 

Dubium  I.  An  concurrente  commemoratione  festi  ritus 
Duplicis  simplificati  cum  commemoratione  Dominicae 
privilegiatae,  huius  commemoratio  praecedere  debeat  alteram 
de  festo  Duplici  simplificato,  vel  viceversa  ? 

Dubium  II.  An  iuxta  Decretum  Urbis  et  Orbis  diei  28 
lunii  1889,  secundae  Yesperae  diei  octavae  Corporis  Christi 
integrae  de  eadem  octava  fieri  debeant ;  vel  iuxta  alias 
Decreta  a  S.  Eituum  Congregatione  illae  Vesperae  integrae 
de  sequenti  festo  Sacri  Cordis  lesu  dicendae  sint,  absque 
octavae  Corporis  Christi  commemoratione  ? 

Dubium  III.  An  Sacra  paramenta  coloris  albi  in  Missa 
de  Sacro  Corde  lesu  adhibenda  sint,  tum  in  locis  ubi  Missa 
Egredimiiii  cum  Praefatione  de  Nativitate  celebratur,  tum 
reliquis  in  locis  ubi  Missa  Miserebitur  cum  Praefatione  de 
Cruce  usurpari  debet  ? 

Sacra  vero  eadem  Congregatio,  exquisite  voto  alterius  ex 
Apostolicarum  Caeremoniarum  Magistris,  ita  propositis 
Dubiis  rescribendum  censuit,  videlicet : 


950  Documents. 

kd   I.      Affirmative   ad   primam   partem ;    negative    ad 
secundam ; 

Ad   II.     Affirmative  ad  primam  partem ;    negative    ad 
secundum ; 

Ad  III.      Affirmative.     Atque  ita  rescripsit  et  servari 
mandavit  die  15  Novembris  1890. 

C.  Card.  Aloisi  Masella,  Praef.,  S.B.G. 
ViNC.  Nussi,  Secretarius. 


Should  a  peiest  at  the  altak,  immediately  before 
or  after  mass,  genuflect  during  the  elevation 
at  another  altar  of  the  church? 

Accidit  quandoque,  ut  statim  post  absolutam  Missam 
unius  Sacerdotis,  in  alia  Missa  fiat  ab  alio  Sacerdote  elevatio 
Sacramenti :  tenetur  ne  Sacerdos,  qui  Missam  explevit, 
expectare  elevationis  utriusque  speciei  finem,  in  quocumque 
altari  fiat  ? 

Besp.  Eubricae  Missalis  leviora  ilia  temporis  momenta, 
quae  intercedunt  a  fine  Missae  ad  initium  usque  reditus  in 
sacrarium,  explicite  non  considerant ;  sed  casus  respiciunt 
solum,  qui  accidere  possunt  cum  vel  e  sacrario  ad  altare,  vel 
ab  altare  in  sacrarium  Sacerdos  incedit.  Nihilominus  eadem 
ad  casum  applicanda  est  Bubrica,  quae  tractat  de  modo  se 
gerendi  Sacerdotis,  antequam  Missam  immediate  incipiat ; 
idque,  uti  patet,  ex  paritatis  ratione.  Itaque  Rubrica  {Bit. 
celehr.  Tit.  Ill,  7i.  4)  ait :  *' Celebrans...  dicit...  Li  nomine 
Patris,  etc.  Et  postquam  id  dixerit,  non  debet  advertere 
quemcumque  in  alio  altari  celebrantem,  etiamsi  Sacramen- 
tum  elevet."  Ergo,  omnes  communiter  concludunt,  omnique, 
ut  patet,  iure,  antequam  praefata  verba  pronuntiet,  genu- 
flectere  debet  tempore  quo  Sacramentum  elevatur  in  alio 
altari :  idem  de  fine  dicas.  At  merito  inquiritur,  utrum 
genuflectere  Sacerdos  debeat,  quocumque  in  Ecclesiae  altari 
elevatio  fiat.  Sed  negative  respondemus,  et  ut  genuflectat 
Sacerdos,  seu  celebraturus,  seu  qui  iam  celebravit,  requiritur, 
ut  vel  e  conspectu  Sacramentum  elevetur,   vel   saltem  in 


Documents.  951 

proximiori  altari.     Sane  Kubrica  de  Sacerdote  incedente  sic 

se  habet :    "Si  vero  contigerit,  eum  transire  ante  altare 

maius...   Si  ante  locum  Sacramenti...  Si  ante  altare,  ubi 

celebretur  missa,   in   qua    elevatur,   vel    tunc    ministratur 

Sacrament um,  etc.  {Bit.  serv.  Tit.  II,  n.  i)  :  "  tunc  tantum, 

Kubrica   exigit,  ut    Sacerdos   genuflectat ;  ergo  minime   in 

aliis  casibus,  in  quibus  ante  non  transit.     Eodem  quoque 

sensu  primam  superius  relatam  Eubricam  esse  intelligendam, 

satis  pariter  liquet,  seu  ex  communiter  servata  consuetudine, 

seu  ex  inconvenientibus,  quae  ex  contraria  praxi  derivarent, 

maxime   in   amplioribus   Ecclesiis.      Ergo   a  pari   in   casu 

nostro,  post  scilicet   expletam  Missam,  eadem    est   norma 

sequenda.     Hinc  de  principio  Missae  agens  cl.  Zualdi,   ait : 

"  Si  Sacramentum  elevetur  in  altari  proximiori  antequam 

Missa  incipiat,  potest   genuflectere   in  infimo  gradu;    imo 

convenit,  si  duo  altaria  inter  sese  nulla  pariete  separentur 

{Caerem.   Miss.  priv.  pag.   52   in    nota).      Clarius   autem 

Wapelhorst  habet :  "  Si  vero  ante  Missam,  vel  post  eam, 

finito  ultimo  Evangelio,  fiat  elevatio  in  alio  altari  vicing, 

utrumque    genuflectit    in    infimo    gradu,   donee    ibi    calix 

depositus  fuerit  {Gompend.  Sacr.  Liturg.  pag.  82,  §  51,  n. 

2)."     Adeo   ut,  proinde,   altaris   proximitas   plus   minusve, 

omnino   requiratur,  ut   Rubricarum   vi    Sacerdos,  seu  ante 

initium,  seu  post  finem  Missae,  debeat  genuflectere,  si  in  illo 

elevetur  Sacramentum.     Id  autem  ita  esse  intelligendum,  ut 

Sacerdos  ad  expletam  utriusque  speciei  elevationem  utroque 

genuflexus   stare  debeat,  adeo   res   patet,   ut   nee   innuere 

necessarium  censeamus."^ 


Taken  from  the  Ephemendes  Liturgicae* 


[    952    ] 

IFloticee  of  l&oo^e. 


St.  Ignatius  Loyola  and  the  Eaely  Jesuits.  By  Stewart 
Rose.  London  :  Burns  and  Oates.  New  York  :  Catholic 
Publication  Society  Co.     1891. 

In  1870  Mr.  Stewart  Eose  published  the  first  edition  of  this 
work,  which  was  then  received  rather  coldly  by  critics.  The 
public,  however,  must  have  liked  it  better  than  their  would-be 
guides,  for  in  less  thai?  twelve  months  a  second  edition  was  called 
for.  The  present  is  an  edition  de  luxe,  and,  according  to  the 
author,  is  so  much  improved  "  that  it  may  be  called  a  new  life." 
But  this  statement,  though  coming  from  one  who  should  know, 
we  are  not  bound  to  accept  in  its  entire  fulness.  That  there  are 
improvements,  and  great  improvements,  we  fully  admit ;  but  these 
are  rather  in  the  form  than  in  the  matter  of  the  work ;  rather  in 
little  details  than  in  the  substance  of  the  narrative.  The  illus- 
trations are,  of  course,  a  new  feature  ;  so  is  the  division  into 
chapters ;  several  additional  letters  of  St.  Ignatius — not  indeed  of 
absorbing  interest — are  added,  and  a  few  queer  expressions  used  in 
the  first  edition  have  been  changed  or  expunged ;  but  the  narrative, 
taken  as  a  whole,  remains  substantially  what  it  was. 

In  connection  with  the  illustrations  no  expense  has  been 
spared.  They  are  intended  to  serve  as  a  kind  of  small  panorama 
of  the  saint's  life,  and  are,  therefore,  for  the  most  part 
"  restorations."  Cities  and  churches,  palaces  and  piazzas, 
convents  and  colleges,  and  common  dwelling-houses  are  shown, 
not  as  they  are  at  present — if  they  exist  at  all — but  as  they  were  in 
the  time  with  which  the  narrative  is  concerned.  These  restora- 
tions have  been  made  by  one  who  is  at  once  an  eminent 
archaeologist  and  an  eminent  artist.  They  are,  therefore,  of 
great  value  from  an  historical  and  archaeological  point  of  view, 
while  they  excite  the  interest  and  stir  the  imagination  of  even  the 
ordinary  reader.  The  portraits  are  few — too  few,  indeed,  for  the 
curious  reader.  Among  them  are  two  of  St.  Ignatius — one  of  his 
mail-clad  youth,  wherein  he  seems  prepared  to  conquer  the  world 
with  spear  and  shield ;  the  other  of  his  old  age,  when  he  had  laid 
the  world  at  his  feet  with  the  arms  of  prayer  and  self-denial. 
But  the  original  of  neither  one  nor  other  of  these  was  taken 


Notices  of  Books.  953 

during  the  saint's  lifetime,  nor  indeed  does  there  exist  any  portrait 
painted  during  his  lifetime.  Immediately  after  he  died,  casts  of 
his  face  were  taken,  and  with  the  aid  of  these,  assisted  by  sugges- 
tions from  Father  Ribadeneira,  Alonso  Sanchez  de  Coello,  an 
eminent  Spanish  artist  painted  the  portrait,  of  which  the  second 
of  those  just  mentioned  is  a  copy. 

Of  the  narrative  itself  we  do  not  purpose  to  say  much.  It  has 
been,  even  in  its  present  form,  before  the  public  for  more  than 
twenty  years.  Besides  there  is  hardly  a  saint  in  the  calendar,  if 
we  except  the  immediate  followers  of  our  Lord,  the  outlines  of 
whose  life  are  so  universally  known,  as  are  those  of  St.  Ignatius. 
But  for  those  who  have  not  yet  read  Mr.  Stewart  Eose's  work, 
many  interesting  details  about  the  saint  and  his  companions 
remain  to  be  learned.  The  narrative  has  all  the  dramatic  interest 
of  a  powerful  novel.  Ignatius  is  the  hero  ;  his  personality  is  kept 
constantly  in  the  foreground,  and  we  follow  him  with  the  greatest 
interest  through  the  exciting,  and  in  some  cases  almost  incredible, 
scenes  of  his  extraordinary  life. 

Ignatius,  or  Inigo — for  this  is  the  name  he  received  in 
baptism — spent  the  time  of  his  youth  at  the  Court  of  Ferdinand, 
King  of  Spain,  where — 

"He  was  trained  with  other  young  lords  of  his  own 
age  in  all  the  knightly  exercises,  Don  Antonio  Manriguez, 
the  Duke  of  Najera,  kinsman  and  warm  friend  of  the  Loyola 
family,  taking  charge  of  his  education.  He  caused  him  to  take 
lessons  in  fencing  daily,  taught  him  the  art  of  war,  and  along  with 
this  made  him  acquire  the  skill  in  writing  and  speaking,  held  in 
those  days  to  furnish  *  the  two  wings  of  letters  and  of  war ' 
which  were  to  lift  him  up  to  the  summit  of  honourable  distinction 
whereto  his  thoughts  aspired,  According  to  the  usage  of  the 
time,  he  devoted  himself  to  the  service  of  a  noble  lady,  whose 
name  in  after  days  never  passed  his  lips.  The  saint,  indeed, 
never  adverted  to  -this  passage  in  his  life  except  very  slightly, 
and  then  only  to  characterize  the  whole  affair  as  a  piece  of 
wordly  vanity ;  yet  this  much  he  said  of  the  lady  in  question  to 
Gon9ales,  that  she  was  not  a  countess  nor  a  duchess,  but  of  a 
rank  more  exalted  than  either — a  lady  of  very  illustrious  and 
high  nobility." 

This  lady,  according  to  our  author,  was  Juana  or  Juanita, 
daughter  of  Ferdinand  I.  of  Naples,  who  with  her  widowed 
mother,  sister  of  Ferdinand  of  Spain,  was  then  at  the  Spanish 
court.     Mr.  Rose,  with  a  turn  for  romance  which  he  frequently 


954  Notices  of  Books. 

displays,  takes  leave  of  this  interesting  princess  in  the  following 
manner: — 

"  We  can  find  afterwards  no  mention  of  the  Princess  Juanita, 
and  may  conjecture  as  we  please  from  the  silence  of  history  that 
she  remained  unmarried  from  some  memory  of  her  illustrious 
lover ;  or,  incited  perhaps  by  his  example,  took  shelter  in  the 
obscurity  of  a  religious  life." 

The  description  of  Ignatius,  the  soldier,  is  interesting : — 

"  He  was  generous,  high-spirited,  an  honourable  lover,  a  loyal 
courtier,  well  versed  in  every  branch  of  knightly  education  ; 
with  something  too  of  taste  in  his  handling  of  the  pencil  and  the 
pen.  He  loved  splendour,  and  new  devices  for  display  or  amuse- 
ment ;  he  liked  to  show  himself  in  the  saddle,  managing  with 
equal  dexterity  the  jennet  or  gineta  used  in  the  tourney  or  the  ring, 
and  the  heavy  war  horse  which  bore  him  with  his  lance  into  the 
field.  He  followed  the  war,  says  Padre  Garcia  (but  without  say- 
ing in  what  quarter),  and  gained  himself  a  name  that  seemed  to 
promise  him  the  highest  place  in  military  honours  ;  he  made 
himself  beloved  by  the  soldiers  ;  he  respected  the  churches  and 
convents,  and  all  consecrated  things  ;  and  once  defended  a  priest 
who  was  in  considerable  danger  against  a  *  streetful,'  as  he  termed 
it,  of  men.  He  was  scrupulous  in  speaking  always  the  strictest 
truth,  holding  that  as  strictly  indispensable  to  true  nobility  ;  his 
words  were  ever  guarded  and  modest,  and  such  as  a  lady  might 
have  heard;  he  was  master  of  his  wrath,  and  never  drew  his 
sword  on  slight  occasions ;  he  thought  it  unworthy  of  his  nobility 
to  assert  a  right  of  precedence  ;  more  than  once  he  had  appeased 
dissensions  among  the  soldiers,  even  at  his  own  persoual  risk, 
and  averted  mutiny  in  the  field;  impetuous  and  quick  to  resent 
an  insult,  he  was  equally  ready  to  forgive ;  and  the  gift  of 
influencing  men's  minds,  which  was  afterwards  so  remarkable  in 
him,  showed  itself  amongst  his  companions  whether  in  the  camp 
or  court.  He  was  short  of  stature,  but  he  was  active,  lithe  of 
limb  and  light  of  heart ;  easily  moved  to  mirth ;  his  complexion 
olive;  his  hair  very  black,  glossy  and  clustering;  his  features  well 
formed ;  his  forehead  high ;  his  countenance  so  expressive  and 
varying  that  no  painter  could  ever  make  a  true  portrait  of  him. 
His  dark  eyes  had  the  deep  lustre  of  the  south  ;  and  to  the  close 
of  his  life  their  eloquence  could  command,  console,  and  speak 
the  liveliest  sympathy,  even  when  he  did  not  utter  a  word.  We 
hear  often  in  his  after  life,  from  persons  not  among  his  followers, 
of  the  power  of  those  marvellous  eyes — then  seldom  raised  from 
the  ground  except  to  gaze  on  heaven,  but  fraught  with  a  per- 
suasiveness exceeding  that  of  language." 

Ignatius,  as  everyone  knows,  was  wounded  at  the  siege    of 


Notices  of  Boohs.  955 

Pampeluna,  or  Pamplona,  as  Mr.  Rose  writes  it ;  but  it  is  not  so 
universally  known  that  the  town  itself  had  been  actually- 
surrendered  to  the  French  prior  to  the  engagement  in  which 
Ignatius  received  the  wound.  The  officers  in  charge  of  the  defence 
of  the  walls,  despairing  of  being  able  to  hold  them  against  the 
overwhelming  numbers  of  French  soldiers  without,  and  the 
citizens  within,  who  strongly  sympathised  with  the  besiegers,  had 
drawn  off  their  soldiers  and  evacuated  the  town,  notwithstand- 
ing the  earnest  protests  of  Ignatius  against  what  he  deemed  a 
cowardly  and  dishonourable  retreat.  He  himself,  scorning  to 
purchase  safety  at  the  price  of  honour,  retired  to  the  citadel,  and 
by  word  and  example  so  fired  the  commandant  and  the  little 
garrison  with  his  own  enthusiasm,  that  they  bade  defiance  to  their 
foes,  and  prepared  to  defend  to  their  last  breath  the  charge 
entrusted  to  them.     What  follows  is  thus  told  by  Mr.  Eose  : — 

"  Ignatius,  seeing  himself  and  those  around  him  in  immediate 
danger  of  death,  prepared  to  meet  it  as  devout  Catholics  have 
often  done  when  no  priest  was  near,  by  making  his  confession  to 
a  comrade  in  arms,  a  gentleman  with  whom,  he  said,  he  had 
often  fought.  Then  he  addressed  the  officers  and  men  ;  he 
represented  to  them  how  much  better  was  an  honourable  death 
than  a  cowardly  capitulation  ;  he  reminded  them  of  the  duties  of 
a  loyal  soldier,  and  the  glory  that  crowns  an  heroic  sacrifice.  The 
attack  on  the  fortress  and  the  defence  were  equally  obstinate.  The 
French,  endeavouring  to  effect  a  breach  in  the  walls  directed  the 
fire  of  their  batteries  against  a  quarter  where  Ignatius  was 
combating  with  desperate  valour,  when  a  stone  detached  from 
the  wall  by  a  cannon-shot  struck  him  on  the  left  leg,  and  the 
ball  itself  by  a  fatal  rebound  shivered  the  right.  Under  these 
two  blows  he  fell,  and  with  him  sank  the  courage  of  the  garrison. 
On  the  same  day,  Whit- Monday,  May  20th,  1531,  the  French 
made  their  entrance  into  the  citadel." 

This  was  the  turning-point  in  the  life  of  Ignatius  Loyola.  He 
had  fought  his  last  fight  with  the  arms  in  the  use  of  which  he 
had  been  trained  from  his  childhood ;  he  had  offered  his  last 
sacrifice  on  the  altar  of  ambition.  But  he  was  not  to  cease  to 
be  a  soldier ;  for,  with  prayer  and  preaching  as  his  arms,  having 
Christ  as  his  King,  and  the  Church  his  lady-love,  he  was  destined 
to  wage  unceasing,  unrelenting,  and  successful  war  against  Satan 
and  sin,  the  implacable  enemies  of  the  human  race.  His  wound 
occasioned  a  long  and  painful  illness.  Twice  was  his  broken 
limb  badly  set.  Once  it  was  rebroken,  and  when  it  healed  again, 
a  protruding  bone  had  to  be  sawed  off.     But  the  intense  pain 


956  Notices  of  Books. 

caused  by  these  operations,  and  the  wasting  fever  which  super- 
vened, Ignatius  bore  without  complaint  or  murmur.  God  visited 
him  in  his  suffering ;  grace  inundated  his  soul ;  he  yielded  to  its 
sweet  influence ;  scales,  as  it  were,  fell  from  his  eyes ;  and  he 
beheld  how  despicable,  in  comparison  with  the  friendship  of 
Almighty  God,  is  the  friendship  of  kings,  or  all  the  honours  kings 
can  bestow. 

Then  follow  the  pilgrimage  to  Montserrat,  and  the  ten  months' 
sojourn  at  Manresa.  These  ten  months  formed  the  saint's 
novitiate.  But  they  were  more  than  a  mere  novitiate.  For  not 
only  was  he  himself  thoroughly  purified  and  sanctified,  and  his 
mind  illuminated  with  the  clearest  knowledge  of  divine  things, 
but  he  composed,  though  well-nigh  illiterate,  a  book  which  has 
influenced  the  world  more  than  any  other  mere  human  pro- 
duction has  done.  It  is  open  to  question,  however,  whether  the 
"  Spiritual  Exercises  "  of  St.  Ignatius  is  a  mere  human  pro- 
duction. But  we  must  stop,  or  we  shall  be  accused  of  wishing 
to  write  a  biography  of  the  saint  ourselves  ;  yet  we  cannot 
stop  without  pointing  out  that  Mr.  Eose's  work  is  not  a  mere  life 
of  St.  Ignatius.  It  is  what  its  title  bespeaks,  and  in  its  pages 
we  find  sufficiently  detailed  accounts  of  the  earlier  Fathers  of 
the  Society,  particularly  of  the  noble  band  that  first  rallied 
round  Ignatius.  The  visit  to  Ireland,  at  the  request  of  the  Pope  of 
Salmeron  and  Brouet,  is  described.  They  arrived  in  Ireland  from 
Scotland  in  the  beginning  of  Lent,  1542,  and,  having  spent  thirty- 
four  days  traversing  the  island,  they  returned,  in  obedience  to  the 
orders  of  Paul  III.,  to  whose  ears  had  come  the  fact  that  confisca- 
tion of  property  and  death  were  threatened  against  anyone  who 
should  give  them  food  or  shelter.  Robert  Waucop  was  then 
Archbishop  of  Armagh,  but,  owing  to  the  savage  persecution  of  the 
Catholics  in  Ireland  by  Henry  VIII.,  had  taken  refuge  in  Eome. 
Though  blind  from  childhood,  he  was  an  eminent  theologian  and 
man  of  letters.  Having  heard  from  the  returned  envoys  the 
frightful  sufferings  the  poor  Irish  had  to  endure  for  their  faith, 
he  instantly  resolved  to  return,  and  suffer  and  die  with  his  flock. 

"  But  the  Pope  would  not  consent  to  this;  he  sent  him,  con- 
fiding in  his  remarkable  endowments,  to  Germany  with  his 
Legate,  and  afterwards  Waucop  assisted  at  the  Council  of  Trent. 
He  must  have  been  a  man  of  rare  ability,  since  his  blindness  had 
not  hindered  him  from  professing  divinity  at  Paris.  He  ever 
loved  and  venerated  the  Society  of  Jesus,  and  died  at  Lyons  on 
November  10,  1551,  at  their  college." 

D.  O'L. 


Notices  of  Books.  957 

The  Interior  of  Jesus  and  Mary.     Translated  from  the 

French  of  the  Kev.  J.   Grou,  S.J.     Edited  by  Eev.  S. 

H.  Frisbee,  S.J.     London :  Burns  &  Gates. 

We  welcome  this  new  and  improved  edition,  in  two  handsome 
volumes,  of  the  well-known  work.  The  Interior  of  Jesus  and 
Mary,  by  Fr.  Grou.  This  book  has  continued  to  maintain 
its  hold  on  pious  souls  who  feel  naturally  drawn  to  know  better 
and  better  Him  who  is  the  Way,  the  Truth,  and  the  Life.  As  a 
proof  of  the  appreciation  in  which  it  has  been  held,  it  is  only 
necessary  to  state  that  since  it  was  first  published,  in  1815,  more 
than  twenty  editions  have  been  published  in  French ;  and  it  has 
been  translated  from  French,  in  which  it  was  originally  written, 
into  almost  every  European  language. 

The  work  may  be  briefly  described  as  a  series  of  readings  on 
the  life  and  virtues  of  our  Blessed  Lord  and  of  His  holy  Mother. 
Pious  souls  who  live  in  religious  communities  will  find  it  to  be  an 
excellent  book  for  spiritual  reading,  and  thoughtful  people  in  the 
world  cannot  easily  meet  with  a  book  which  will  attract  them 
more  surely  to  the  study  of  the  life  of  Him  whom  to  know  and  to 
imitate  is  life  eternal. 

It  is  important  to  explain  that  the  present  is  a  much  improved 
edition.  The  work  was  originally  composed  in  French  for  the 
help  and  direction  of  a  saintly  lady.  Miss  Weld,  of  Lullworth 
Castle ;  but  the  first  and  many  succeeding  editions  were  printed 
with  many  inaccuracies,  and  from  an  unrevised  manuscript. 
In  the  sketch  of  the  life  of  Fr.  Grou,  which  prefaces  the  present 
edition,  we  are  told  that  he  had  found  that  his  penitent.  Miss  Weld, 
had  a  special  attraction  to  imitate  the  Blessed  Virgin  in  her  interior 
dispositions,  and  as  a  help  to  her  he  composed  L'Interieur  de 
Marie.  Finding  that  she  corresponded  generously  to  the  design  of 
our  Lord,  and  desiring  to  confirm  her  in  her  vocation,  he  next 
composed  for  her  L'Interieur  de  Jesus,  which  he  finished  in  1794. 
Some  time  after  he  asked  for  the  manuscript,  and  made  a  copy  in 
his  own  handwriting,  introducing  many  improvements.  This 
done,  he  returned  the  first  manuscript  to  Miss  Weld.  The  second 
was  found  among  his  manuscripts  after  his  death. 

Miss  Weld  loaned  her  copy  to  a  French  lady,  who,  with  the 
permission  of  the  former,  copied  it  for  her  own  use.  Returning 
to  France,  she  carried  her  precious  manuscript  with  her,  and 
thinking  the  interest  of  God  and  the  good  of  souls  demanded  that 
she  should  not  keep  so  great  a  treasure  for  herself,  she  had  it 
published,  unknown  to  Miss  Weld,  at  Paris,  in  J8X5,    This  edition 


958  Notices  of  Boolcs, 

had  been  made  with  too  little  care  for  publication  ;  but  its  chief 
defect  was,  that  it  was  a  reproduction  of  the  first  manuscript  of 
the  author,  and  not  the  second,  which  he  had  revised  and 
considerably  improved.     .     .     . 

In  1847  Miss  Kennelly,  a  religious  of  the  Ursuline  Community 
of  Blackrock,  neari'  Cork,  translated  L'Interieur  de  Jesus  et  de 
Marie  into  Enghsh.  This  translation  was  made  from  one  of  the 
earlier  editions,  and  is,  therefore,  free  from  many  of  the  faults 
which  have  disfigured  the  French  stereotyped  editions.  It  is  a 
new  edition  of  this  work  which  is  now  presented  to  the  public. 

AscETiCAL  Works  of  St.  Alphonsus.    New  York  : 
Benziger  Brothers. 

The  Centenary  edition  of  all  the  ascetical  works  of  St.  Alphon- 
sus, which  was  begun  a  few  years  ago,  is  now  complete,  and  has 
been  issued  from  the  press  of  Benziger  Brothers  in  a  style 
worthy  of  the  occasion.  There  are  eighteen  volumes  in  all, 
including  such  works  as  The  Selva,  The  Divine  Office,  The  True 
Spouse  of  Christ,  Sermons  for  Sundays,  Preparation  for  Death , 
Glories  of  Mary,  The  Holy  Eucharist,  &c.,  &c.,  and  all  his  smaller 
treatises  collected  into  one  volume. 

In  looking  over  this  library  of  ascetical  books,  it  cannot  but 
occur  to  one  as  simply  marvellous  how  any  one  man  could  find 
time  to  compose  and  write  so  many  books,  and  yet  we  know  that 
all  these  works  represent  little  more  than  his  half  hours  of 
mental  relaxation,  when  the  saint  turned  aside  from  his  active 
missionary  labours,  or  deep  absorbing  study  necessary  for  the 
composition  of  his  great  work  on  moral  theology.  Here  we  can 
realize  how  well  he  kept  his  promise  never  to  waste  a  moment. 

The  ascetical  works  of  St.  Alphonsus  cover  the  whole  field  of 
this  department  of  study  ;  and,  owing  to  their  character  for  solid 
information  and  genuine  simplicity,  there  are  few,  if  any,  books 
which  we  would  more  strongly  recommend  to  priests  and  people. 
The  priest  will  find  in  them,  moreover,  a  great  mine  of  instruc- 
tion for  the  guidance  of  all  classes  of  penitents,  as  well  as  for  use 
in  his  Sunday  sermons.  We  commend  this  Centenary  edition  of 
the  ascetical  works  of  St.  Alphonsus  to  the  attention  especially 
of  young  priests  and  students. 

Cardinal  Newman's  Works.     London:   Longmans, 

Green  &  Co. 
The  readers  of  the  I.  E.  Eecoed  will  be  pleased  to  learn  that 
a  new  and  cheap  edition  of  Cardinal  Newman's  chief  works  is 


Notices  of  Boohs.  959 

issuing  from  the  press.  They  form  a  large  part  of  the  "  Silver 
Library"  which  is  being  published  by  Longmans,  Green  and  Co., 
and  which  is  so  called  from  the  silver  lettering  on  the  cover  of  each 
volume.  The  size  is  crown  octavo,  and  the  type  and  paper  are 
the  very  best.     The  price  of  each  volume  is  3s.  6^. 

It  is  obviously  unnecessary  to  write  in  praise  of  the  literary 
excellence  or  varied  learning  of  the  great  Cardinal's  works.  We 
have  only  to  strongly  recommend  any  of  our  clerical  readers  who 
may  not  have  yet  secured  them  to  take  advantage  of  the  present 
issue,  and  he  will  be  amply  repaid  for  his  moderate  outlay  by  the 
store  of  reading — the  most  delightful  and  improving — which  he 
will  have  laid  by  for  the  long  winter  evenings. 

The  following  are  some  of  the  works  which  have  been  already 
published: — Apologia  pro  vita  sua;  Callista ;  Loss  and  Gain; 
Historical  Sketches  ;  Essays,  Critical  and  Historical  ;  An  Essay 
on  the  Development  of  Christian  Doctrine ;  The  Arians  of  the 
Fourth  Century  ;  Verses  on  Various  Occasions  ;  The  Idea  of  a 
University  defined  and  illustrated  ;  Parochial  and  Plain  Sermons 
(8  vols.)  ;  Difficulties  felt  by  Anglicans  ;  Discussions  and  Argu- 
ments on  Various  Subjects  ;  Grammar  of  Asse^it  ;  Biblical  and 
Ecclesiastical  Miracles,  &c.,  &c. 

Tractatus  de  Actibus  Humanis.    Auctore  G.  J.  Walsh, 
S.T.D.,  &c.     Dublini:  Browne  &  Nolan. 

As  we  are  about  to  go  to  press  with  the  October  Number  of 
the  I.  E.  Eecobd,  an  early  copy  of  the  second  edition  of  the 
Tractatus  de  Actibus  Humanis,  by  his  Grace  the  Archbishop  of 
Dublin,  has  been  sent  to  us. 

When  this  work  appeared  a  few  years  ago  we  gave  our  opinion 
of  its  merits  at  considerable  length,  and  our  estimate  of  its  worth 
has  been  fully  borne  out  by  the  rapid  sale  of  the  1,500  copies 
which  composed  the  first  edition.  Now  a  second  edition  has 
been  issued  at  the  urgent  and  repeated  appeals  of  the  Theological 
Colleges,  whose  students  have  been  greatly  inconvenienced  by  the 
difficulty  of  securing  a  copy  of  the  first  edition. 

The  same  reason  which  has  restrained  us  from  writing  a  word 
of  praise  of  Cardinal  Newman's  works,  in  our  notice  of  the  new 
edition,  is  full  as  strong  in  the  case  of  the  Treatise  on  Human 
Acts,  by  the  Archbishop  of  Dublin.  Amongst  theological  students 
the  Tractatus  de  Actibus  Humanis  is  already  recognised  as  a  classic, 
just  as  the  books  of  the  great  Cardinal  are  in  their  own  order. 

We  have  only  to  note  that  the  new  edition  is  printed  in  larger 


960  Notices  of  Books. 

type  and  better  style  than  the  first,  and  is  most  creditable,  for  its 
accuracy  and  form,  to  the  printers,  Messrs.  Browne  &  Nolan. 

Scott's  "  Kokeby."  With  Notes,  &c.  By  W.  F.  Bailey,  B.A. 
Dublin  :  Browne  &  Nolan. 

For  Intermediate  students  it  will  be  enough  to  announce  that 
in  the  Intermediate  School  Texts,  published  by  Browne  &  Nolan, 
Dublin,  is  now  included  Bokeby,  edited  and  annotated  by  Mr. 
Bailey. 

The  "Intermediate  School  Texts  "  have  been  year  by  year 
increasing  in  popularity ;  and  as  for  the  editor  of  Bokeby,  it  is 
only  necessary  to  remind  our  readers  that  he  is  the  same  W.  F. 
Bailey  who  has  already  edited  for  the  same  series  of  texts,  Gold- 
smith's Traveller,  Grey's  Elegy  and  Odes,  Lockhart's  Life  of 
Napoleon,  Coleridge's  Ancient  Mariiier,  &c. 

Bokeby  is  prefaced  by  a  Life  of  Scott,  and  enriched,  in  addition 
to  the  footnotes,  with  an  appendix  and  a  complete  map,  in  which 
every  place  mentioned  in  the  text  is  identified. 

Sermon  deliveeed  on  the  Occasion  of  the  Conse- 
cration OF  Maynooth  College  Church.  By  the 
Most  Eev.  Dr.  Healy,  Coadjutor  Bishop  of  Clonfert. 
Dublin  :  Brov^ne  &  Nolan. 

It  happens  so  rarely  that  a  sermon  to  which  one  has  listened 
with  great  pleasure  is  capable  of  evoking  the  same  feelings  when 
calmly  read  over  in  print,  that  we  confess  to  taking  up  the  pub- 
lished copy  of  the  Most  Eev.  Dr.  Healy' s  Maynooth  Sermon  with 
a  certain  reluctance.  "We  were  amongst  those  privileged  to 
hear  the  sermon  when  delivered,  and  it  was  our  opinion  then, 
and  the  opinion  of  those  with  whom  we  spoke,  that  it  was  worthy 
of  the  occasion,  which  was  certainly  the  greatest  that  has  been 
presented  to  a  pulpit  orator  in  Ireland  within  the  century.  All 
the  Bishops  of  Ireland,  and  some  from  America  and  Australia, 
were  present,  with  representative  priests  who  came  as  delegates 
from  every  diocese  in  Ireland,  and  all  assembled  in  the  great 
National  College,  and  in  a  chapel  which  for  its  exquisite  beauty 
is  a  credit  to  the  country. 

Well,  we  have  read  over  the  Sermon  in  its  neat  pamphlet 
form,  and  we  confess  that  we  have  done  so  with  no  less  pleasure, 
and  with,  perhaps,  more  profit  than  when  we  heard  it  delivered. 
We  are  greatly  pleased  that  the  Bishop  has  yielded  to  the  demand 
for  its  publication,  for  it  would  be  a  loss  to  let  so  beautiful  o^ 
specimen  of  highest  pulpit  pra,tory  die  with  the  day. 


THE  IRISH 

ECCLESIASTICAL  RECORD. 


NOVEMBEB,  1891, 


LEO  XIII.  AND  THE  SOCIAL  PKOBLEM.— I. 

"  Eerum  Novarum." 

IT  is  a  custom  with  many  writers  of  no  mean  standing  to 
exalt  to  the  sky  the  superior  intelligence  and  industry, 
and  the  greater  productive  capacity  of  the  Teutonic  races,  to 
the  disparagement  of  the  nations  outside  the  circle  of  these 
privileged  sons  of  progress.  But  a  strange  problem  stares 
writers  of  this  class  in  the  face  to-day  as  they  pen  their 
panegyric.  Precisely  from  the  chosen  nations  of  modern 
advancement  comes  the  present  cry  of  almost  hopeless  per- 
plexity amid  the  social  and  economic  difficulties  of  our  time. 
From  England,  and  America,  and  from  Germany,  rise  the 
loudest  sounds  of  unending  labour- war — from  these  same  w^e 
hear  of  the  greatest  poverty  in  spite  of  all  their  teeming 
wealth,  of  the  greatest  oppression  and  misery  in  spite  of 
boasted  liberty. 

The  problem  before  us,  baptized  "  the  social  question," 
is  world-wide,  no  doubt ;  yet,  nowhere  is  the  fatal  law  of 
modern  progress,  which  our  Holy  Father  simply  and  com- 
prehensively enunciates  as  '' divitiarum  in  exiguo  numero 
afHuentia,  in  multitudine  inopia,"  to  be  seen  so  strikingly 
exemplified  as  in  the  case  of  those  nations  which  have 
surrendered  themselves  most  completely  to  material  pros- 
perity, and  appear  to  superficial  observers  to  be  the  favoured 
sons  of  heaven  : — 

"  Unfortunately  it  still  remains  true  [writes  Mr.  Chamberlain] 
that  in  the  richest  country  of  the  world  the  most  abject  misery 
VOL.  XII,  3  P 


962  Leo  XI TI.  and  the  Social  Problem. 

exists  side  by  side  with  luxurious  profusion  and  extravagance. 
There  are  still  nearly  a  million  persons  in  the  United  Kingdom 
who  are  in  receipt  of  parish  relief,  and  as  many  more  who  are 
always  on  the  verge  of  poverty.  In  our  great  cities  there  are 
rookeries  of  ignorance,  intemperance,  and  vice,  where  civilized 
conditions  of  life  are  impossible,  and  morality  and  religion  are 
only  empty  names.  In  certain  trades  unrestricted  competition 
and  the  constant  immigration  of  paupers  from  foreign  countries 
have  reduced  wages  to  a  starvation  level ;  while  there  are  other 
industries — as,  for  instance,  shipping  and  railway  traffic— where 
the  loss  of  life  is  terrible,  and  the  annual  butcher's  bill  is  as  great 


It  is  true  that  '*  the  utilization  of  steam  and  electricity, 
the  introduction  of  improved  processes  and  labour-saving 
machinery,  the  greater  subdivision  and  grander  scale  of 
production,  the  v^onderful  facilitation  of  exchanges,  have 
multiplied  enormously  the  effectiveness  of  labour ; "  2  and  that 
consequently,  there  is  a  greater  absolute  number  v^ho  enjoy 
improved  conditions  of  life.  Nevertheless  these  gains  are 
far  from  general ;  and  there  seems  room  to  question  whether 
the  proportion  elevated  by  the  benefits  obtained  from  the 
prodigious  increase  in  wealth-producing  power,  which  has 
marked  the  present  century,  may  not  be  incredibly  smaller" 
than  that  of  those  who  have  been  depressed. 

"  The  new  forces  [says  Henry  George]  do  not  act  upon  the 
social  fabric  from  underneath  .  .  .  but  strike  it  at  a  point 
intermediate  between  top  and  bottom.  It  is  as  though  an  im- 
mense wedge  were  being  forced,  not  underneath  society,  but 
through  society.  Those  who  are  above  the  point  of  separation 
are  elevated,  but  those  who  are  below  are  crushed  down.^  Where- 
ever  the  new  forces  are  anything  like  fully  utilized,  large  classes 
are  maintained  by  charity,  or  live  on  the  verge  of  recourse  to  it ; 
amid  the  greatest  accumulations  of  wealth,  men  die  of  starvation, 
and  puny  infants  suckle  dry  breasts ;  while  everywhere  the  greed 
of  gain,  the  worship  of  wealth,  shows  the  force  of  the  fear  of 
want.  The  promised  land  {i.  e.,  of  material  happiness)  flies  before 
us  like  the  mirage.  The  fruits  of  the  tree  of  knowledge  turn  as 
we  grasp  them  to  apples  ci  Sodom  that  crumble  at  the  touch. "^ 

1  North  American  Review,  May,  1891. 

2  Henry  George,  Progress  and  Poverty,  page  1. 
8  Ibid.,  pages  4  and  5. 

■*  The  value  of  George's  remedy  I  may  be  allowed  to  examine  by  the 
light  of  the  P^ncyclical  in  a  future  paper, 


Leo  XIII.  and  the  Social  Problem.  963 

This  association  of  poverty  with  progress,  of  squaHd 
misery  with  luxury,  of  huge  percentages  on  capital  with  the 
smallest  possible  remuneration  of  labour,  the  black  wretched- 
ness of  over-crowded  cities  with  mansions  and  villas,  of 
sleek  contentment  and  refinement  with  struggling  toil  and 
degradation — all  this  forms  a  cancer  that  eats  away  the  very 
heart  of  our  civilization.  No  wonder  that  "  the  momentous 
seriousness  of  the  present  state  of  things  just  now  fills  every 
mind  with  painful  apprehension ;  wise  men  discuss  it ; 
practical  men  propose  schemes ;  popular  meetings,  legis- 
latures, and  sovereign  princes — all  are  occupied  with  it,  and 
there  is  nothing  which  has  a  deeper  hold  on  public  attention." 
''  All  agree,  and  there  can  be  no  question  whatever,  that 
some  remedy  must  be  found  and  quickly  found."  {Encyclical.) 
Yes,  truly,  for  this  is  ''  the  riddle  which  the  sphinx  of  fate 
puts  to  our  civilization,  and  which  not  to  answer  is  to  be 
destroyed." 

It  is  a  hopeless  folly  on  the  part  of  "  exploiteurs  "  and 
interested  optimists,  with  smiling  self-satisfaction,  to  declare 
themselves  and  the  nations  out  of  the  reach  of  calamity,  on 
the  slippery  pretext  that  this  distemper,  which,  is  now 
threatening  the  very  life  of  society,  is  common  to  all  times 
and  to  all  countries.  Undoubtedly  other  times  have  had 
their  social  questions,  and  other  lands  are  distracted  as  well 
as  our  own  by  social  antagonism  and  social  danger.  But 
between  the  past  and  present  of  the  problem  there  is  an 
essentia]  difference.  Under  the  old  regime  master  and  man 
were  bound  together  by  an  identity  of  interests ;  the  patron 
went  forth  to  the  combat  supported  by  his  workmen  and 
dependents.  Now  he  has  to  face  them  armed  against  him. 
The  "  craft-guilds,"  composed  of  masters  and  men,  which  of 
old  unified  trades  and  industries,  have  been  swept  away,  and 
have  given  place  to  ''trades  unions,"  made  up  of  men  violently 
hostile  to  their  employers,  and  to  associations  of  capitalists 
who  forget  their  obligations  to  the  employed.  Formerly, 
too,  there  was  struggle,  perhaps  even  violence  and  blood- 
shed ;  but,  then,  peace  came  at  length  to  the  workshop, 
bringing  some  period  of  healing  calm.  Now-a-days  the  battle 
is  unceasing,  and  divides  not  workshop  against  workshop, 


964  Leo  XIII.  and  the  Social  Problem. 

but  man  against  master — employer  against  employed — 
smidering  those  who  should  join  hands  as  brothers  in  the 
struggle  of  life. 

The  social  question  of  our  time  is,  in  fact,  the  outcome  of 
a  five-fold  revolution — the  revolution  in  the  State,  in  religion, 
in  political  economy,  in  maciiinery,  and  in  the  general 
tendency  of  mankind. 

"Machinery  has  brought  about  disorder;  a  science  of  false 
economics  has  elevated  disorder  into  an  institution  ;  the  strife 
against  God  and  against  His  Christ  has  precipitated  it ;  new  political 
liberty — the  enfranchisement  of  labour — has  rendered  it  powerful, 
nay,  irresistible  ;  ^  and  the  development  of  mankind  has  assigned  to 
the 'fourth  estate'  a  larger  part  on  the  stage  of  national  and 
international  life  than  it  ever  played  before  in  the  history  of 
nations."'-^  "  The  elements  of  a  conflict  [declares  our  Holy  Father] 
are  unmistakable  :  the  growth  of  industry,  and  the  surprising  dis- 
coveries of  science  ;  the  changed  relations  of  masters  and  w^ork- 
men ;  the  enormous  fortunes  of  individuals  and  the  poverty  of  the 
masses;  the  increased  self-reliance  and  the  closer  mutual  com- 
bination of  the  working  population  ;  and,  finally,  a  general  moral 
deterioration." 

To  begin  with,  machinery  has  transformed  the  w^hole 
economic  condition  and  order  of  the  world.  It  has  created 
increased  facilities  of  communication,  and  has  thus  made 
the  world  one  immense  trading  community.  Production 
has  been  revolutionized,  in  consequence,  by  the  minute 
division  of  labour,  whereby  ''  trades  have  become  so 
specialized  and  localized,  that  one  country,  or  perhaps  one 
group  of  towns,  produces-  the  greater  part  of  all  the  goods  of 
a  certain  sort  which  are  consumed  throughout  the  world."  ^ 
Large  production  is,  therefore,  the  order  of  the  day,  and 
great  armies  of  operatives,  of  both  sexes  and  all  ages,  have 
been  marshalled  under  the  command  and  direction  of  a  few 
intelligent  entrepreneurs.  Luxury  and  refinement  of  living 
have  been  carried  to  the  maximum — 

"  So  that  not  only  are  classes  of  goods  multiplied  almost 
indefinitely,  but  fashions  and  modes  enter  in,  till  standard  styles 

1  Cf.  "  The  Federation  of  Labour,"  by  H.  H.  Cham^^ioi^,  New  1  if vkw, 
18S0. 

-'Cf.  T.e  Mnuiteiir  de  Borne,  May  24,  1891. 
3  F.  A.  Walker,  PuUHcal  Economy,  page  173. 


Leo  XIII.  and  the  Social  Prohlem.  965 

almost  disappear,  each  season  bringing  minute  modifications  of 
demand,  which  are  not  to  be  satisfied  except  by  an  exact  com- 
pliance, even  the  colom^s  and  shades  of  one  year  becoming 
intolerable  the  next." 

The  consequences  of  such  a  state  of  things  are — 1st,  that 
there  is  an  incalculable  increase  of  unskilled  labour,  or  worse 
still,  of  only  partially  skilled,  and  therefore  immobile  labour  ;  ^ 
2nd,  that  there  is  an  ever-widening  gulf  between  capital 
and  labour,  between  master  and  man — the  latter  being  con- 
demned to  slave  all  his  days  with  one  set  of  muscles,  to  the 
deterioration  of  his  general  physique,  and  with  the  least 
possible  use  of  his  intelligence  ;  the  former  being  under  the 
necessity,  from  the  very  purpose  and  end  of  his  occupation, 
of  sharpening  and  developing  his  intelligence  to  the  utmost. 
3rd.  And  last,  but  most  direful  of  consequences,  the  toilers  are 
at  the  mercy  of  the  tender  consideration  of  the  entrepreneur ^ 
or  of  the  whim  of  the  luxurious  consumers. 

'*  Machinery  has  revolutionized  the  mode  of  production,  the 
form  of  labour,  the  distribution  of  income  and  of  property  ;  it 
has  destroyed  the  workshop  to  make  room  for  the  factory  ;  it  has 
by  its  immense  productivity  made  the  world  into  a  market ;  it 
has  created  the  despotism  of  capital  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the 
other  the  vast  inorganic  army  of  labour;  and  humanity  has 
become,  under  its  sway,  as  a  mass  of  dust  without  cohesion, 
without  unity.  .  .  .  This  new  order  is  the  reign  of  the  few — 
the  resurrection  of  ancient  Eome,  where  millions  of  slaves 
ministered  to  the  pleasure  and  enjoyment  of  ten  thousand  wealthy 
lords,  insolent  in  their  riches."  ^ 

Let  us  write  down  in  letters  of  red  the  words  of  our  Holy 
Father  : — 

"  Cum  ipsa  instituta  legesque  publicae  avitam  religionem 
exuissent,  sensim  factum  est  ut  opifices  inhumanitati  dominorum 
effrenataeque  competitorum  cupiditati  solitaries  atque  indefensos 
tempus  tradiderit.  .  .  .  Hue  accedunt  et  conductio  operum  et 
rerum  omnium  commercia  fere  in  paucorum  redacta  potestatem  ; 
ita  ut  opulenti  et  praedivites  perpauci  prope  servile  jugum  infinitae 
proletariorum  multitudini  imposuerint." 

'^  E.g.,  pitmen,  stokers,  firemen,  dockers, &c. ;  by  "  Immobile  Labour,"- 
1  understand  that  which  experiences  an  incapacity  to  exchange  the  kind  of 
operation,  or  to  migrate  from  one  scene  of  work  to  another. 

2  Cf .  Le  Moniteur  de  Rome,  as  above. 


966  Leo  XIII.  and  the  Social  Problem. 

In  consequence  of  the  almost  infinitesimal  division  of 
labour,  which  has  followed  upon  the  introduction  of  machi- 
nery, trades  are  no  longer  in  themselves  attractive  and 
interesting — no  longer  (in  themselves)  constitute  an  educa- 
tion for  the  great  majority  of  those  who  engage  in  them. 
"  The  work  of  the  living  individual  phantasy  "  is  replaced  in 
the  general  mass  of  workers  ''  by  the  dull  uniformity  of  a 
lifeless  mechanism;"^  room  is  no  longer  left  for  an  honest 
pride  in  ''  something  attempted,  something  done  ;"  but  a 
dull  monotonous  effort  day  after  day  in  the  performance  of 
**  some  mechanical  operation,  which  requires  little  thought 
and  allows  no  originality,  and  which  concerns  an  object  in 
the  transformation  of  which,  whether  previous  or  subse- 
quent, the  toilers  have  no  part,"^  renders  our  modern 
industry,  in  large  part,  little  better  than  a  system  by  which 
a  superior  minority  is  enabled  to  get  the  best  results  out  of 
the  slavery  of  the  majority — a  slavery  that  paralyzes  a  man's 
best  powers  of  mind  and  body.  Then  add  to  this,  I  will  not 
say,  the  incidental  injuries  which,  though  actually  suffered 
in  this  century  by  multitudes,  especially  women  and  children, 
at  work  on  machinery,  are  yet  in  no  essential  connection 
with  their  employment ;  but  the  inevitable  noise,  the  dust, 
the  heat,  and  in  particular  *'  the  injury  to  the  nerves  through 
the  uniformity  and  monotony  of  the  work,  and  the  suppres- 
sion of  all  variety  in  the  play  of  the  muscles."  These 
attendant  evils  of  machinery — "aesthetic,  psychical,  physical 
injuries,"  inseparable  from  our  present  system  of  produc- 
tion— are  calculated  to  make  one  hesitate  to  join  in  the 
triumphant  acclamations  which  greet  this  great  age  of  dis- 
covery and  invention — ''  our  glorious  nineteenth  century." 
And,  besides,  the  trades  that  once  were  an  education  in 
themselves — as  the  smith's  trade  of  old — now  develop  the 
labouring  man  only  in  one  portion  of  his  bodily  constitu- 

^  Devas,  Groundwork  of  Economics,  page  149.  Of  course  I  am  not 
here  called  upon  to  make  a  comparative  estimate  of  the  good  and  evil  of 
machinery.  1  am  only  showing  tljat  the  influence  of  machinery  is  a  necessary 
element  to  be  taken  into  account  in  the  examination  of  the  Res  Novae, 
which  have  created  the  Social  Problem,  and  called  forth  the  Encyclical. 

2  Here  the  psychological  dictum  "  Idem  semper  sen  tiro,  et  non  sentire 
recidunt  eodem"  (Hobbes),  finds,  to  my  mind,  striking  exemplification. 


#7 


Leo  XIII.  arid  the  Social  Problem.  967 

tion  ;  or,  worse,  they  demand  innumerable  *'  hands  "  without 
heads — unskilled  toilers — to  wheel  and  to  shovel,  and  to 
''feed"  engines.  A  man  with  the  potentia  in  him  of  as 
famous  a  workman  as  he  who  WTought  the  grand  rood- 
screen  preserved  in  the  South  Kensington  Museum  as  the 
glory  of  the  British  blacksmith's  art,  may  now-a-days  be 
clad  in  scant  mutande  and  leathern  mask,  as  a  puddler  in  one 
of  the  enormous  ironworks  of  the  land,  or  at  best  be  allowed 
to  develop  his  talents  by  manipulating  a  '*  bogie  "-load  of 
half  molten  iron  to  suit  the  stroke  of  the  giant  steam 
hammer. 

While  this  is,  in  general,  the  effect  of  our  industrial 
system  on  the  toilers,  the  masters,  managers,  and  directors 
of  labour  have  a  much  superior  fate.  Their  position  and 
occupation  oblige  them  to  understand  the  working  of  the 
factories  as  a  whole,  and  often  the  construction  of  each 
individual  machine ;  and,  more,  they  must  make  themselves 
acquainted  with  the  developments  and  phases  of  trade  and 
commerce,  and  must  know  the  countries  and  provinces  with 
which  they  have  trade  dealings.  This  all  constitutes  an 
intellectual  education  for  the  superior  class,  apart  altogether 
from  the  refinement  and  mental  training  secured  to  them  by 
their  "  social  standing  "  and  income. 

Considering,  then,  the  respective  effect  of  our  modern 
system  on  the  toilers  and  on  their  masters,  one  cannot  help 
perceiving  the  ever-increasing  gulf  between  the  employers 
and  the  employed.  For,  if  we  look  back  along  the  line  of 
economic  development,  we  shall  see  that  at  each  stage  in 
the  evolution  of  things  there  has  been,  since  the  middle  of 
last  century,  a  tendency  to  exalt  the  superior  or  directive 
class  materially  and  intellectually,  and  at  the  same  time 
to  depress  the  labouring  classes  mentally  and  physically 
by  injurious  kinds  of  employment,  and  by  monotonous 
unfructifying  repetition  day  after  day  of  the  same  unvarying 
muscular  operation. 

Political  economy  here  puts  in  its  claim  for  the  title  of 
Guide  of  Society  and  Protector  of  Labour.  But,  unfortunately 
for  all  genuine  science  of  economics,  the  results  we  have 
before  us,  of  much  at  least  of  the  early  teachings  of  professed 


968  Leo  XIII.  and  the  Social  Problem. 

economists,  are  sadly  against  its  pretensions.  I  do  not  deny 
**  the  satisfactory  results,  which  have  attended  the  extensive 
recognition  of  the  principles  of  economics  in  the  commercial 
and  financial  codes  of  the  comitry."  ^  My  contention  is,  that 
these  advantages  have  been  confined  in  their  application : 
the  few  have  been  the  gainers ;  and  the  many,  if  not  losers,  at 
all  events  have  not  been  adequately  and  proportionately  aided 
by  this  means  in  the  struggle  for  life  and  decent  existence. 
And,  moreover,  I  would  lay  special  stress  on  the  Professor's 
declaration,  that  economic  doctrines  "have  in  recent  years 
received  some  useful  developments  and  corrections  ^  by  which 
he  implies  that  there  was  and  is  need  for  such  corrections. 
Smith,  Malthus,  Kicardo,  and  Mill — the  most  distinguished 
names  in  the  lists  of  the  science — are  by  no  means  capable 
of  supplying  society  with  an  infallible  panacea  for  all  human 
evils,  even  for  all  purely  economic  evils,  Jevons  and  other 
moderate  men  have  done  much  towards  erasing  the  blots  on 
the  systems  of  their  predecessors  of  the  eighteenth  century 
and  the  first  decades  of  the  nineteenth.^  Instead  of  devising 
a  new  method  of  practical  doctrine  to  correspond  with  the 
new  modes  and  conditions  of  production,  economic  science, 
left  mostly  in  the  hands  of  men  inspired  by  the  philosophy 
of  Voltaire,  Hume,  Bentham,  &c.,  advocated  and  introduced 
principles  which  have  rendered  the  social  action  of  the 
great  mechanical  triumphs  of  Watts,  Stephenson,  Nasmyth, 
destructive  in  the  extreme.  Laissez-nous  faire,  laissez- 
nous  passer,  cried  the  precursors  and  apostles  of  the 
French  Revolution;  and  their  cry,  which  meant  ultra- 
individualism,  or  well-nigh  complete  independence  for  each 
member  of  society,  i.e.,  licence,  was  echoed  and  re-echoed  in 
varying  tones  through  Europe.  Quesnay  (1758),  and  Turgot 
(1769),  and  Condillac  (1776),  and  J.  B.  Say  (1803),  Adam 
Smith  (1776),  and  Malthus  and  Ricardo,  and  James  Mill 
and  J.  S.  Mill — these  are  the  champions  of  "  economic 
liberty,"  which  too  often — aye,  generally — in  State  regula- 


1  Cairnes,  The  Logical  Method  of  Political  Economy^  page  19,  &c. 

2  Jevons'  State  in  Relation  to  Labour  deserves  attention  as  following 
very  closely  the  lines  of  the  Encyclical  in  regard  to  State  interference. 


Leo  XIII.  and  the  Social  Problem.  969 

tions  and  in  practice,  has  been  a  cloak  for  the  licence  of  the 
wealthy  and  the  dominant.  The  factory  legislation  of 
England  from  1816  to  1833  was  opposed  by  the  generality 
of  the  writers  and  teachers  of  economics  on  the  false 
principle  of  non-interference;  and  the  tribe  of  superficial 
thinkers  of  our  times  are  found  to  quarrel  with  the 
Encyclical  on  this  same  ground.  Surely  experience  should 
have  taught  them  reflection.  Eor,  there  can  be  no  doubt, 
the  tendencies  and  doctrines  of  the  so-called  Manchester 
school  of  economists,  aided  and  abetted  by  the  teachings  of 
Darwin  and  Spencer,^  have  resulted  by  direct  causation,  on 
the  one  hand  in  the  erection  of  anarchism  into  a  supposed 
scientific  theory  ;  and,  by  indirect  influence,  on  the  other — 
that  is,  by  the  natural  operation  of  the  principle  of  ''  reaction 
against  exaggeration" — in  the  appearance  of  Karl  Marx 
and  Hyndman,  and  the  whole  system  and  organization  of 
socialism.  Thus  the  "proletariat"  created  by  the  vast 
expansion  of  modern  industry,  while  thrust  and  trodden 
down,  in  the  maddening  scramble  for  place  and  pelf,  into 
the  squalor  of  poverty  and  of  helpless  wretchedness,  is 
left,  on  the  one  hand,  with  an  irony  almost  cynical,  to  the 
"  free  play  of  economic  forces,"  and  to  the  "  self-protecting 
power  of  labour ;"  and,  on  the  other,  it  is  invoked  and  armed 
by  the  ignorance  of  the  wild  enthusiast  or  the  contrivance 
of  the  designing  demagogue  against  all  the  rights  and 
institutions  of  society. 

Had  the  masses  retained  any  portion  of  their  Christianity, 
they  might  have  been  able  to  withstand  the  combined 
attacks  of  ''liberalism"  in  economy  and  in  philosophy. 
But,  alas  !  the  fragments  of  religion  left  among  the  lower 
classes  by  the  Reformation  have  been  largely  swept  away 
by  generations  of  neglect,  or  else  by  the  active  agents  of 
'89.  An  interesting  though  heart-chilling  study  is  it  to 
trace  back  the  genealogy  of  the  present  social  standards  and 
ideas  to  the  time  when  a  lustful  king  and  a  godless  queen 
robbed  the  English  people  of  their  noblest   inheritance — 


1  Prince   Krapotkin    (Nineteenth    Century,   August,   1887)   rests  the 
"  Scientific  Basis  of  Anarchy  "  on  the  philosophy  of  Spencer. 


970  Leo  XIII.  and  the  Social  Problem. 

the  gift  of  the  true  faith.  It  is  as  evident  as  day-hght 
that  both  the  doctrine  and  influence  of  Protestantism 
huve  combined  to  destroy  all  the  purest  and  loftiest  ideals, 
which  serve  to  raise  the  fallen  race  of  man,  and  are  imbibed 
by  the  people  from  religion.  The  teaching  of  Leo  XIII., 
on  more  than  one  occasion,  is  plain  enough.  The  reason  of 
the  present  divorce  of  social  and  industrial  life  from  religion, 
he  declares,  and  of  the  consequent  moral  and  material 
degradation  into  which  the  mass  of  the  people  have  sunk,  is 
to  be  found  in  some  rude  departure  from  the  sublime  ideals 
of  Catholicism,  in  some  violent  separation  from  the  traditions 
of  the  past ;  further,  that  this  departure,  this  separation,  is 
due  to  the  ideas,  the  doctrine,  and  the  practice  of  the 
Keformation ;  and,  finally,  that  if  the  ills  of  society  are  to 
be  healed,  it  must  and  can  be  only  by  a  return  to  the  spirit 
of  the  times  when  "  the  life  of  Jesus  Christ,  God  and  man, 
penetrated  every  race  and  nation,  and  impregnated  them 
with  His  faith,  His  precepts,  and  His  laws."  ^ 

The  first  and  essential  idea  of  the  Reformation  was 
rebellion,  the  rejection  of  authority,  the  spurning  of  all 
restraint,  the  levelhng  of  all  restrictions.  Private  judgment, 
which  means  individualism  or  anarchy  in  religion,  was  the 
watchword  of  the  Reformers ;  private  judgment  soon  led  to 
''liberalism,"  liberalism  to  thoroughgoing  rationalism,  and 
rationalism  to  complete  infidelity  and  uncontrolled  licence. 
The  laissez-nous  /aire,  laissez-nous  passer  of  the  Encyclo- 
pedists was  all  but  the  final  expression  of  the  spirit  of 
the  Reformation;  the  "rights  of  man,"  i.e.,  tl.D  complete 
independence  of  each  individual,  anarchy  or  licence — the 
revolution  in  all  its  Protean  shapes  and  phases — these  are 
all  the  legitimate  children  of  the  Reformation.  And  note 
that,  simultaneously  with  this  cry  of  laissez-nous  faire, 
laissez-nous  passer  arose  the  malignant  shout  ecrasez 
rinfdme,  which  has  been  dinned  into  the  ears  of  the  people 
as  the  supreme  motive  for  civil  and  social  activity  ever  since 
the  gospel  of  the  Reformation  was  revealed  and  promulgated 

^  Cf.  Renini  Novanim,  Inscrutahill  Dei  ad  iuit.,  Quod  ApostoUci  Muneri.^, 
&c.     See  also  Vat.  Council,  Dc  Fide  Cathol. 


Leo  XIII.  and  the  Social  Problem.  971 

by  the  word  of  Voltaire  and  Kousseau.  For  more  than  a 
century  false  savants,  impious  philosophers,  and  writers 
without  shame  or  modesty,  have  been  employed  and  paid 
handsomely^  to  speak  to  the  mob,  and  to  tear  from  the  hearts 
of  the  people,  as  far  as  in  them  lies,  the  belief  in  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul  and  the  existence  of  God.  *'  To  hunt  the 
Church  from  public  life,  from  the  school,  from  politics,  from 
the  hospital — to  banish  her  out  of  sight  and  lock  her  up  in  the 
sacristy,  to  cast  down  the  ramparts  she  has  raised,  to 
inoculate  the  world  of  labour  with  materialism  and  godless 
instruction — behold  the  aims  and  objects  of  those  who  now- 
a-days  claim  to  guide  and  rule  the  world  by  their  wisdom." 
And  but  yesterday  (June  3rd)^  the  walls  of  Eome  bore  in 
large  type  a  placard  with  the  final  and  definite  sentence  of 
our  modern  leaders  of  the  people,  7io}i  c'e  piil  la  religione, 
''religion  is  no  more."  As  a  consequence,  we  seem  to-day 
almost  to  be  looking  upon  the  fulfilment  of  the  warning 
words,  so  oft  repeated,  of  the  Abbe  Meric  :  "When  you  have 
driven  God  from  the  world,  when  you  have  torn  from  the 
breasts  of  the  people  their  faith  and  the  hopes  of  religion — 
that  day  you  will  witness  such  a  storm  of  hatred  let  loose  as  you 
will  not  be  able  to  control,  and  the  torrent  that  bears  away  the 
ruins  of  our  churches,  will  bear  away  also  on  its  seething  waters 
the  debris  of  your  wealthy  mansions,  given  over  into  the  hands 
of  those  whom  you  yourselves  have  armed  and  let  loose." 

We  have,  therefore,  before  us  at  the  present  time  a 
problem,  momentous  indeed — a  problem  as  old,  it  is  true,  in 
one  phase  or  another,  as  civilization  itself,  but  by  causes 
innumerable  assuming  to-day  a  new  and  alarming  aspect, 
and  become  more  than  ever  hard  to  solve,  yet  pressing  ever 
for  instant  solution.  Luxury  and  poverty,  capital  and  labour, 
these  are  the  ends  of  the  entanglement ;  and  in  the  midst  of 
all  lie  religion  and  morality  bound  and  strangled.  The  moral 
and  the  material  are  so  mutually  intertwined,  that  if  we  would 
permanently  extricate  one  from  confusion,  we  must  grasp 
and  disentangle  both.     The  conversion  of  England  means 

1  Instance  a  certain   "  pensioned  professor,"  whose  pen  is  never  so 
sharp  and  ready  as  when  directed  against  aught  savouring  of  religion. 
-  The  substance  of  this  paper  was  written  early  in  June. 


972  Leo  XIII.  and  the  Social  Problem. 

the  redemption  of  the  great  masses  of  her  people  from  the 
degradation,  material  and  moral,  to  which  they  have  been 
reduced  by  the  principles  of  modern  advancement  introduced 
by  the  Keformation.  Hence  are  needed,  in  order  to  undo 
the  fell  work  of  that  movement,  and  to  meet  the  require- 
ments of  the  present  crisis,  men  profoundly  possessed  by  the 
divine  ideal  and  fired  by  apostolic  example  ;  earnest,  unselfish, 
self-sacrificing,  devoted  to  the  poor,  stern  enemies  of  indul- 
gence, gentle  yet  firm,  men  of  prayer  and  mortification,  men 
who  will  lay  down  their  lives  to  restore  the  hope  of  the 
people  ;  the  sacrifice  of  daily  mass  and  the  sacraments  ;  and 
at  the  same  time  men  trained  in  sound  knowledge  of  sociaj 
and  economic  conditions,  who  can  grapple  with  the  materia} 
side  of  the  problem  ;  can  understand  how  to  get  filthy  hovels, 
the  fruitful  abodes  of  crime  and  misery,  swept  away ;  can 
rescue  children  and  youths  from  degradation  and  vice,  brand 
civilized  slavery,  and  detect  all  the  wily  pretences  of  interested 
wealth  for  the  maintenance  or  introduction  of  wrongful 
systems  and  measures ;  and  can  show  masters  and  men  alike 
the  follyof  strikes,  lock-outs,  and  unfair  combinations.  "Every 
minister  of  holy  religion,"  proclaims  the  Vicar  of  Christ, 
''must  throw  into  the  conflict  all  the  energy  of  his  mind  and 
all  the  strength  of  his  endurance ;  .  .  .  they  must  never  cease 
to  urge  upon  all  men  of  every  class,  upon  the  high  as  well  as 
the  lowly,  the  gospel  doctrines  of  Christian  life ;  by  every  7neans 
in  their  power  they  must  strive  for  the  good  of  the  people." 

We  may  legitimately  conclude,  then,  that  never  before  in 
all  the  long  ages  has  the  social  question  thus  attacked  with 
its  menaces  the  very  gates  and  foundations  of  civilized  order. 
Everywhere  the  passion  for  revolution  is  abroad,  stirring  up 
the  w^aters  of  society  from  their  lowest  depths ;  states 
tremble  beneath  the  shock  of  anarchy  and  socialism,  the 
respective  synonyms  of  disorder  and  tyranny ;  industry  seems 
in  danger  of  complete  dislocation  ;  the  classes  are  marshalled 
against  the  masses,  capital  seeking  to  cast  the  chains  of  slavery 
on  labour,  and  labour  armed  to  the  teeth  against  capital — an 
unholy  and  self-murdering  conflict !  Confusion  holds  almost 
undivided  sway,  and  men's  minds,  racked  by  dread  expec- 
tation of  evil  soon  to  come,  seek  on  all  hands  for  aid  and 


The  Lough  Berg  Pilgrimage.  973 

guidance.  Only  three  short  weeks  ago,  I  saw  the  troops  of 
tlnited  Italy  filling  the  streets  of  Eome  ;  the  great  question 
was  being  settled  by  the  bayonets  of  the  Bersaglieri  and  the 
revolvers  of  the  Carabinieri !  Thirty  thousand  armed  men, 
foot-soldiers  and  cavalry,  are  required  to  make  the  Eternal 
City  safe  to  live  in,  and  to  maintain  the  tottering  government. 
And  on  the  same  much -feared  1st  of  May  the  Lebel  rifles  of 
the  French  soldiery  were  employed  with  fatal  effect  on  the 
unarmed  crowd  of  labourers  at  Fourmies.  The  Eevolution 
devours  it  own  entrails  ! 

While  still  the  sounds  and  scenes  of  that  May-day  fight- 
ing at  S**  Croce  in  Gerusalemme  were  fresh  in  the  memories 
of  the  inhabitants  of  Rome,  and  when  the  bayonets  and 
revolvers  had  scarcely  disappeared  from  the  streets  and  the 
doorways  of  public  buildings,  a  calm  clear  voice  was  heard 
speaking  from  the  Vatican  in  accents  of  the  deepest  love  and 
sympathy  for  the  suffering  and  misguided  masses,  with  words 
of  warning  to  many,  and  with  lessons  of  supremest  import  to 
all.  The  great  problem,  which  has  occupied  the  minds  of 
so  many  of  the  wise  ones  of  this  age  of  enlightenment,  is 
solved  by  the  great  Encyclical  Berum  Novarum,  as  far  as 
human  nature  will  alloio  the  sulution  to  he  realized.  "  Eoma 
locuta  est,  causa  finita  est." 

A.  HiNSLEY,  B.A. 


THE  LOUGH  DERG  PILGRIMAGE. 

IT  is  considerably  more  than  a  century  since  Dr.  Pococke 
referred  to  Lough  Derg  as  a  "  famous  place  of  pilgrim- 
age."^ From  the  lips  of  a  Protestant  bishop,  such  words 
afford  a  noteworthy  testimony  regarding  this  celebrated  Irish 
sanctuary,  and  one  which  is  all  the  more  remarkable  as  it 
reaches  us  from  the  dark  period  of  persecution  when  the 
Government  had  put  forth  all  its  strength  to  destroy  every 
vestige  of  Ireland's  faith  and  sanctity.  As  a  place  of  pil- 
grimage, it  had,  indeed,  been  famous  centuries  before  the 

1  Tour  in  Ireland,  page  72. 


974  The  Lough  Berg  Pilgrimage. 

Tour  in  Ireland  was  penned.     And,  judging  from  the  number 
of  pilgrims  who  annually  seek  its  secluded  shores,  it  is  evident 
that  it   still  maintains  its  ancient  character.     Its  position, 
sheltered   within   the   secluded   highlands  of  Donegal,  was 
then  remote.     But  in  our  day  the  railway  line  from  Ennis- 
killen,  which  skirts  the  picturesque  shores  of  Lough  Erne 
as   it  passes   on   to   the   Atlantic,  has   removed   the   chief 
difficulties   of  approach.     A   short   drive   from   the  pretty 
station  at  Pettigo,  through  some  winding  valleys  and  over  a 
stretch  of  moorland,  takes  one  to  the  shores  of  this  historic 
lake.     And  here  the  islands  which  diversify  its  surface,  and 
the  sheltering  hills — in  many  places  picturesque  with  wood 
plantings,    and   gay  with  the  bright  tints  of  the  flowering 
heather — burst  upon  the  sight.     The  view  is  a  very  pleasing 
one;    and    yet    the    purple    hill-slopes    and    the    wooded 
islands  seem  to  speak  but  of  solitude.     Nor  is  that  feeling 
removed  by  the  sight  of  the  group  of  buildings  which  rise 
before  you  on  '*  Station    Island  " — Ireland's  most  historic 
sanctuary.     If  the  soft  pealing  of  the  bell,  which  floats  over 
the  water  from  the  island  campanile,  tells  you  of  the  near 
presence  of  your  fellow-man,  it  tells  you  also  that  they  are 
men  who  have  sought  the  solitude  of  that  island  to  devote 
some  days  to  penance  and  to  prayer.     Though  among  the 
smallest  and  least  picturesque,  "  Station  Island"  is,  perhaps, 
by  far  the  most  interesting  island  in  Lough  Derg.     Its  area, 
not  probably  more  than  three   roods,  presents  a  perfectly 
barren  surface,  and  thus  contrasts  very  unfavourably  with 
the  wood-clad  outlines  of  ''Prior"  and  "Allingham"  islands 
just  adjoining,  and  with  the  fertile  slopes  of"  Saints'  Island," 
which  rise  above  it  on  the  opposite  side.  But  the  sharp  rocks 
and  broken    shingle,  which  make  its  barren  aspect  all  the 
more  desolate,  are   the   silent   witnesses  of  the  faith  and 
piety  of  its  pilgrims.     To  the  pilgrim  it  is,  indeed,  holy  soil; 
and  in  popular  estimation  in  Ireland  it  has  been  regarded 
as  such  for    many  centuries.      Do  we  not  learn  by  a  time- 
honoured  tradition  that  our  national  apostle  had  sanctified 
its  shores    by  his    prayers    and    his   penances?     A  church 
which  bore  his  name  was  erected  there  to  perpetuate  the 
tradition,     And  though  no  traces  of  it  remain  in  our  time. 


The  Lni/gh  Dcrcj  PiJgrmage.  975 

the  traditions  which  it  perpetuated  are  not  forgotten.     And 
tliough  some    may,  with  Lanigan,    critically    question    or 
disregard    those   traditions,  because  they  may  not  rest  on 
evidence  historically  certain,  yet  we  think  they  may  well 
be  treated  with  respect  when  found  associated  with  religious 
observances  which  have  won  the  admiration  of  many  men  of 
all  classes  and  ranks  for  centuries.     And  are  there  not  there 
still  the  remains  of  the  old  stone  cells  which  speak  to  us, 
probably  from  centuries  past,  of  some  of  the  most  celebrated 
of  Ireland's  early  saints  ?    Yes,  many  think  that  the  ruins  of 
some  of  the  circular  stone-roofed  cells,  in  which  our  early 
saints  were  wont  to  pray  and  to  perform  their  heroic  penances, 
may  still  be  seen  there.    And  there,  too,  we  are  told,  was  the 
"Cave,"   or   *' Purgatory,"  celebrated  in  the  Middle  Ages 
throughout  Europe,  where  unwonted  visions  of  the  other 
world  were,  it  was  said,  granted  to  favoured  souls — where  the 
veil  was  sometimes  set  aside,  and  the  agonies  of  the  reprobate 
and  the  joys  of  the  elect  were  thus  partially  revealed  to  mortals. 
That  the  fame  of  the  Lough  Derg  "  Cave  "  was  widespread 
in  the  Middle  Ages,  is  historically  certain.     It  is  also  certain 
that  its  fame  attracted  pilgrims  from  very  remote  lands.     It 
is  well  known  that  its  historical    and    legendary   interest 
suggested  to  Calderon  one  of  the  grandest  subjects  immor- 
talized by  his  Muse.     It  is  also  certain  that  its  fame  was 
spread  through   Italy    at    an    early  period.      But  whether 
■  Saltrey's  narrative  of  the  Knight  Owen's  experiences  of  the 
unseen   world   at   Lough   Derg,   did  or  did  not  suggest  to 
Dante  the  outline  of  his  noble  epic,  it  is  not  improbable 
that  it  inspired  the  narrative  of  the  Spanish  Viscount,  which 
is  reproduced  at  some  length  by  Philip  0' Sullivan  in  his  well- 
known  Historia  Catkolica.      This  Spaniard,  who  represents 
himself  as  a  pilgrim  at  Lough  Derg,  sketches  with  a  graphic 
pen  the  various  regions    of  hell,  with   the  awful  suffering 
endured  by  the  reprobate  within  them.     He  also  classifies 
them,  and  represents  himself  as  having  succeeded  in  passing 
through  them  unharmed,  by  frequently  and  piously  invoking 
the  divine  and  the  sacred    Name.     How  like    the  Sal  trey 
narrative !     He  was  next  conducted  safely  through  Purga- 
tory ;  and,  finally,  favoured  with  a  vision  of  the  bliss  of  the 
elect. 


976  The  Lough  Berg  Pilgrimage. 

Such  legendary  narratives,  however  fanciful  or  ideal,  must 
lend  to  the  place  a  poetic  interest  quite  distinct  from  that 
which  is  historical  and  strictly  religious. 

We  find  that  the  penitential  practices  at  Lough  Derg  were 
either  tolerated  or  recognised  from  a  very  early  period.  Over 
two  centuries  ago  it  was  described  by  Dr.  Lombard  as 
"  celeberimus  ille  et  sanctissimus  locus."  ^  Dr.  Kirwan — the 
saintly  bishop  of  Killala — was,  about  the  same  period,  one  of 
the  pilgrims  to  its  shores  ;  and,  while  punctually  performing 
the  duties  of  the  pilgrimage  with  the  humlDlest,  we  are  assured 
by  his  biographer  that  he  also  "  diligently  applied  himself  to 
hearing  confessions  and  preaching  sermons."  There  the 
legate  Einucini  regrets  that  he  was  unable  to  protect  the 
Purgatory  from  the  ravages  of  the  Calvinists.  And,  later  still, 
the  critical  and  accomphshed  De  Burgo  speaks  of  it  in  the 
very  highest  terms  of  praise.  He  even  states  that,  in  his 
opinion,  it  was  the  most  remarkable  place  of  pilgrimage  in  the 
Church.  And  the  Irish  people,  yielding  to  the  promptings  of 
their  religious  feelings,  have  long  regarded  the  Purgatory  as 
the  holiest  spot  within  the  Island  of  Saints.  And  so,  when 
setting  foot  upon  its  soil,  they  literally  "  put  their  shoes 
from  off  their  feet."  It  is  with  head  reverently  uncovered 
and  with  naked  feet  that  they  visit  its  holy  places ;  and,  as 
if  inspired  by  the  genius  of  the  spot,  the  pilgrims  imitate 
there  the  heroic  penances  of  the  saints  of  old,  by  adopting 
the  rigorous  fast  peculiar  to  our  country  in  ages  long  past, 
together  with  other  penitential  observances  usual  in  our 
early  Church.  This  must  appear  all  the  more  remarkable, 
when  we  remember  that,  in  consideration  of  her  children's 
weakness,  and  of  the  degenerate  spirit  of  our  time,  the 
Church  has  been  obliged  to  remove  most  of  the  restrictions 
which  had  made  the  ecclesiastical  fast  irksome  to  nature  in 
the  past.  But  though  they  have  died  out  elsewhere,  the 
penitential  practices  of  our  early  Church  still  find  a  safe 
asylum  within  the  island  sanctuary  of  Lough  Derg.  As  in 
the  time  of  Dr.  Lombard,  so  in  our  day,  the  pilgrims  support 
weary  nature  by  one  meal  only  each  day.     This  daily  meal 

^  De  Re^iiO  Ileb.  Comnient.,  page  111), 


The  Lough  Derg  Pilgrimage.  977 

consists  of  bread  and  water.  Those  who  prefer  black  tea  to 
water  are  allowed  to  use  it.  Now,  as  then,  the  prescribed 
"  rounds  "  of  the  Church  and  cells,  &c.,  are  made  in  bare 
feet,  while  the  prescribed  prayers  are  recited  three  times 
each  day.  And  as  the  cave  is  there  no  longer  in  which  the 
vigil  was  spent  in  prayer  and  fasting,  St.  Patrick's  Church 
is  used  for  the  purpose.  It  may,  therefore,  be  said  that  the 
penitential  exercises  there  in  our  days,  just  as  in  the  time  of 
Dr.  De  Burgo,  seem  to  have  no  counterpart  in  any  other 
European  country. 

On  the  evening  of  our  arrival  the  mists  were  being  drifted 
in  heavy  masses  along  the  hills  before  a  sharp  east  breeze. 
And  as  the  twilight  shadows  deepened  over  the  lake,  and  the 
outline  of  hills  and  islands  was  being  gradually  lost  in  the 
gloaming,  it  was  strange  to  watch  the  pilgrims  moving  like 
shadows  around  the  church  and  cells,  and  to  the  water's 
edge — now  kneeling,  and  again  standing  in  prayer,  and 
finally  returning  to  St.  Patrick's  little  church,  where  all  the 
penitential  and  devotional  exercises  have  their  opening  and 
their  close.  It  was  impressive  to  catch  the  murmur  of  their 
prayers  over  the  sighing  of  the  night  wind  and  the  soft 
lapping  of  the  water  on  the  broken  shore.  Yet  such  ate  the 
customary  sounds  which  reach  the  visitor's  ear  on  Station 
Island,  except  when  the  music  of  the  solemn  benediction 
service,  or  the  pathetic  stanzas  of  the  Stahat  Mater  float 
upon  the  air  from  the  adjoining  church.  The  casual  visitor, 
who  sees  for  the  first  time  those  pilgrims  engaged  in  their 
penitential  exercises,  almost  unconsciously  asks  himself  if 
the  saints  of  old  have  returned  to  earth  again.  But  no.  They 
are  only  their  spiritual  children,  who  in  the  nineteenth 
century  imitate  the  heroic  virtues  of  their  ancestors,  aa 
they  inherit  their  undying  faith.  At  such  a  time  no  very 
active  imagination  is  required  to  realize  the  guardian  spirits 
of  the  place  ascending  before  the  throne  with  the  petitions  of 
the  pilgrims,  and  descending  with  the  graces  which  bring 
peace  to  weary  souls  who  seek  it  there  through  Mary  and 
Patrick's  intercession.  In  our  time  there  are  many  who 
would  contemptuously  relegate  such  practices  to  the  old 
and  the  ignorant.  But  at  the  Lough  Derg  pilgrimage  on 
VOL.  XII.  3  q 


978  The  Lough  Berg  Pilgrimage. 

the  occasion  of  our  visit  the  youDg  were  far  more 
numerous  than  the  old,  and  there  were  many  of  both  sexes 
who,  judging  from  their  bearing  and  manner,  were  persons 
of  education  and  refinement.  Some  had  come  from 
Scotland  and  England,  and  some  there  were  who  had 
crossed  from  the  remote  shores  of  America  to  the  old  land, 
and  gratified,  by  visiting  ^Lough  Derg,  a  long-cherished 
wish  of  seeking  their  great  apostle's  patronage  at  his  own 
far-famed  shrine. 

There  are  comparatively  few,  if  any,  who  visit  Lough 
Derg  for  the  mere  purpose  of  gratifying  an  idle  or  an 
irreverent  curiosity.  Indeed,  curiosity  is  apt  to  die  under 
the  severity  of  the  regime  to  which  visitors  know  that  they 
are  expected  to  submit  there.  And  the  devoted  priests  in 
charge  of  the  sanctuary,  while  courteous  to  all,  are  careful  to 
have  it  felt  that  it  is  solely  a  place  of  prayer  and  penitential 
exercises. 

The  pilgrims  are  received  there  only  from  the  beginning  of 
June  to  the  feast  of  the  Assumption;  and  the  penitential 
exercis-es  are  carried  out  under  the  supervision  of  the 
priests  who  reside  on  the  island  during  that  period.  In 
this  ^V'ay  the  pilgrims  succeed  in  combining  the  ordinary 
religious  exercises  of  a  retreat  with  the  rigorous  fast,  and 
the  performance  of  the  penitential  exercises  in  connection 
with  the  "  Station." 

As  regards  the  ritual  which  prescribes  these  penitential 
exercises,  it  is  known  only  on  the  island,  and  seems  to  have 
been  preserved  by  an  unwritten  tradition  from  a  very  remote 
past.  It  is  now  substantially  unchanged  from  what  it  had 
been  in  the  days  of  Dr.  Lombard — over  two  hundred  years 
ago.  In  some  of  the  penitential  exercises,  however,  certain 
modifications  have  been  introduced,  which  may  be  noticed 
here. 

Though  continuing  for  nine  days  in  the  past,  the  exercises 
may  now  be  completed  in  three  days.  Yet,  even  now,  the 
exercises  may  be  continued  for  nine  days,  should  the  pilgrim 
wish  it. 

In  the  past  the  vigil  was  observed  only  at  the  conclusion 
of  the  exercises,  and  in  the  cave ;  now  it  is  observed  on  the 


The  Lough  Derg  Pilgrimage.  979 

first  night  of  the  pilgrimage,  but  only  in  the  church.  These 
seem  to  be  the  chief  relaxations  from  the  rigid  procedure 
usual  in  Dr.  Lombard's  time.  As  regards  the  use  of  black 
tea,  now  permitted,  it  can  hardly  be  regarded  in  the  light  of 
a  relaxation,  as  many  prefer  taking  the  water  of  the  lake, 
which  is  usually  taken  hot,  with  a  little  sugar.  By  a  polite 
and  pardonable  euphemism,  this  beverage  is  usually  referred 
to  as  the  toine  of  the  island,  and  is  regarded  by  many  as 
agreeable  and  constitutional. 

A  knowledge  of  the  devotional  exercises  of  the  "  Station  " 
must  prove  interesting  to  the  general  public ;  and  may  therefore 
be  briefly  given  here  from  the  copy  published  in  Father 
O'Connor's  interesting  History  of  Lough  Derg}  The  pilgrim 
begins  his  station  by  a  short  visit  to  the  Blessed  Sacrament  in 
St.  Patrick's  Church.  He  then  proceeds  to  St.  Patrick's  cross, 
which  stands  outside  the  gable  of  the  southern  transept,  and 
recites  there  a  pater,  ave,  and  creed,  on  bended  knees.  He 
next  proceeds  to  the  opposite  gable,  to  what  may  be  the  site 
of  "  St.  Bridget's  cross  "  (as  it  retains  that  name),  and  recites 
the  same  prayers  in  the  same  manner;  after  which  he  renews 
his  baptismal  vows,  in  an  audible  voice,  and  with  arms 
extended  in  the  form  of  a  cross.  After  this  he  walks  seven 
times  around  the  exterior  of  the  church,  reciting  at  each 
round  a  decade  of  the  beads,  and  adding  a  creed  at  the  last. 

The  "  beds"  or  *'  cells  "  of  the  chief  patrons  of  the  island 
are  next  visited  successively  by  the  pilgrims,  in  the  following 
manner : — three  circuits  of  the  outside  of  the  cell  are  first 
made,  while  three  paters,  three  aves,  and  a  creed  are  recited; 
the  pilgrims  then  kneel  at  the  entrance  of  the  cell,  and 
recite  there  the  same  prayers ;  and,  having  entered,  the  same 
prayers  are  again  recited,  while  they  make  three  circuits  of 
the  interior.  A  large  crucifix  occupies  the  centre  of  each 
cell,  before  which  the  pilgrims  again  kneel,  and  after  reciting 
the  same  prayers  kiss  them  reverently.  Having  visited  the 
various  cells,  the  pilgrim  next  proceeds  to  the  water's  edge 
on  the  south-eastern  shore,  and  there  recites,  in  a  standing 
posture,  five  paters,  five  aves,  and  a  creed ;  after  which  he 

1  Page  183. 


980  The  Lough  Derg  Pilgrimage. 

kneels,  and  repeats  the  same  prayers  on  bended  knees.  From 
the  water's  edge  the  pilgrim  returns  to  St.  Patrick's  cross, 
and,  kneeling,  repeats  there  the  same  prayers  which  he 
recited  at  the  beginning  of  the  station.  He  finally  returns 
to  St.  Patrick's  Church,  where  the  usual  prayers  for  the 
Pope's  intention  are  recited  by  many,  even  after  each  station, 
though  not  prescribed  ;  many  also  add  a  third  of  the  Rosary. 
Father  O'Connor  summarizes  these  devotional  exercises  in 
the  following  sentence  : — 

"  Our  readers  will  be  able  to  form  some  idea  of  the  piety  and 
devotion  practised  at  this  holy  retreat,  when  we  tell  them  that  a 
Station  at  present  consists,  besides  the  visit  to  the  Blessed 
Sacrament,  of  ninety-seven  paters,  one  hundred  and  sixty  aves, 
and  twenty-nine  creeds  ;  that  three  of  these  Stations  are  per- 
formed each  day ;  and  that  at  the  end  of  each  day's  Station  five 
decades  of  the  Eosary  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  are  said."^ 

In  estimating  the  severity  of  these  exercises  of  the 
"  Stations,"  it  should  not  be  forgotten  that  they  are  gone 
through  in  bare  feet;  and  that  the  surface  of  the  island, 
which  is  naturally  rugged,  is  strewn  alike  with  the  wreck  of 
its  old  monastic  buildings,  and  with  debris  from  the  build- 
ings recently  erected  there.  The  paths  of  the  barefooted 
pilgrims  are  over  such  a  surface.  Yes,  they  are  now,  as  they 
were  when  visited  by  Dr.  Kirwan,  over  two  hundred  years 
ago,  *'  paths  beaten  by  the  feet  of  saints."  They  may  be 
truly  described  as  pathways  of  penance. 

As  the  soft  light  of  the  early  summer  morm'ng  begins  to 
glow  upon  the  surromiding  hills .  and  to  play  on  the  surface 
of  the  sparkling  lake,  the  bell  summons  the  pilgrims  to 
morning  prayer,  and  to  an  early  mass  at  five  o'clock.  There 
is  a  midday  visit  to  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  and  a  lecture ; 
and  when  the  evening  falls  the  bell  summons  the  pilgrims 
once  more  to  the  church  for  evening  prayer,  benediction,  and 
sermon,  after  which  the  Stations  of  the  Cross  are  gone 
through.  It  will  thus  be  seen  that  the  spare  time  may  well 
be  filled  up  by  the  preparation  for  confession.  It  is  on  the 
third  day  that  the  pilgrims  usually  approach  the  altar. 

It  is  interesting  and  encouraging  to  know  that  by  an 
indult  dated  26th  June,  1870,  a  plenary  indulgence  has  been 
1  Hid,,  page  188. 


The  Lough  Derg  Pilgrwiage.  981 

attached  by  the  late  supreme  pontiff  to  the  Lough  Derg 

pilgrimage.    This  favour  has  been  granted  without  hmitation 

as  to  time,  and  at  the  "  postulation  "  of  the  present  venerated 

bishop   of  the    diocese    of    Clogher,   who   guards   the   old 

sanctuary  with  so  much  watchful  care.     It  appears  from  the 

terms    of  his   lordship's   ''  postulation "   that  it  enjoyed  a 

similar  privilege  in  the  early  part  of  this  century.     It  also 

appears     from     an    official    communication    addressed    by 

Dr.  M'Mahon,  one  of  his  lordship's  venerated  predecessors, 

to  the  Holy  See  in  the  beginning  of  the  last  century,  that 

a  similar  favour  had  been  extended  to  it  by  Pope  Clement  X. 

Such  encouragement  from  the  supreme  pontiffs  may  have, 

in  part,   explained   how  the  pilgrimage   continued   in    his 

time  "with  little  or   no   interruption,"  despite  the  severe 

penal    enactments     of    the     period     for     its     suppression. 

And     the     prelate     adds  : — "  Though     everywhere     else 

throughout  the  kingdom,  the  ecclesiastical  functions  have 

ceased    on   account  of  the  prevailing  persecution,  in   this 

island,  as  if  it  were  placed  in  another  orb,  the  exercise  of 

religion  is  free  and  public,  which  is  ascribed  to  a  special 

favour  of  divine  Providence  and  to  the  merits  of  St.  Patrick.' 

It  is  also  recorded  by  this  good  prelate,  that  on  the  occasion 

of  his  visit  there,  a  Protestant  was  converted  at  the  sight  of 

the  earnestness  and  piety  of  the  pilgrims. 

We  know  that  some  of  the  penitential  exercises,  such  as 
the  circuits  of  the  cells,  and  the  prayers  at  the  water's  edge, 
may  be  regarded  as  unmeaning  by  persons  who  know  nothing 
of  the  penitential  practices  of  our  early  monks.  But  a  know- 
ledge of  those  ancient  practices  enables  us  to  see  in  them  but 
the  survival  of  customs  that  were  dear  to  our  early  saints. 
The  circular  stone-roofed  cells,  the  ruins  of  which  may  still 
be  seen  in  many  parts  of  Ireland,  were  occupied  by  those  holy 
men.  As  their  lives  were  lives  of  continuous  prayer,  many 
of  their  daily  prayers  must  have  been  recited  while  moving 
around  their  cells.  Choice  and  perhaps  atmospheric  changes, 
frequently  determined  whether  those  circuits  might  be  in 
the  open  air  or  within  the  cell.  In  the  pilgrim's  **  rounds  " 
both  within  and  without  the  cells,  we  have  little  else  than 
a  devoted  imitation  of  the  old  practice, 


982  The  Lough  Derg  Pilgrimage. 

The  prayers  recited  at  the  water's  edge  must  remind  us 
of  a  practice  of  extreme  severity  with  which  our  early  monks 
were  familiar,  and  which  was  consecrated  by  the  example 
of  our  national  apostle ;  that,  namely,  of  praying  while 
standing  immersed  in  cold  water. ^  And  this  practice  was 
long  continued  in  the  early  ages  of  our  Church.  It  does  not 
seem  to  have  entirely  died  out,  at  least  at  Lough  Derg, 
when  Dr.  Kirwan  visited  its  sanctuaries  in  the  seventeenth 
century.  His  biographer  tells  us  that  the  pilgrims  at  that  time 
were  in  the  habit  of  "  advancing  a  considerable  distance  into 
the  water"  to  pray.^  The  testimony  of  Dr.  Lombard  is 
similar. 

In  Dr.  Lombard's  time  the  "  cave  "  or  "  Purgatory"  was 
in  being,  and  used  by  the  pilgrims — though  he  is  careful  to 
point  out  that  in  popular  estimation  it  had  undergone  certain 
structural  changes.  It  was  then  almost  on  the  same  level 
as  the  surrounding  surface  of  the  island.  It  was  built  and 
roofed  with  stone,  and  lighted  only  by  one  small  aperture. 
It  was  so  low  that  the  inmates  could  scarcely  stand  erect, 
and  was  capable  of  accommodating  only  about  a  dozen 
penitents  together.  Yet  here  they  spent  twenty-four 
hours  in  watching  and  praying,  and  without  any  food  what- 
ever.^ Lynch  refers  to  it  as  "  a  place  of  dismal  darkness," 
in  which  ''they  partake  of  nothing  save  a  little  water  to 
moisten  their  throats  when  parched  with  thirst.*  It  was 
natural  that  the  place  and  its  practices  should  excite  accord- 
ingly the  special  hostility  of  the  heretics.  Legal  enactments 
of  special  severity  were  passed  against  them.  In  the  year  1632, 
Sir  William  Stewart,  by  orders  of  the  Government,  had  the 
Purgatory  "  defaced  and  utterly  demolished."  Every  trace 
of  the  cave  was  removed ;  and  the  stone  preserved  within  it, 
on  which  St.  Patrick  was  supposed  to  have  knelt  in  prayer, 
was  cast  into  the  depths  of  the  lake.  Yet,  though  the  very 
"  foundations  of  the  place  were  rooted  up  "  by  the  fanatical 
Puritans,  the  "  cave "  was  again  reconstructed;  and  in 
defiance   of  persecution   and    penal    enactments,  pilgrims 

^  Aquis  AUjidisse.  Immenjus  Com.  de  Reg.  Hib.,  page  75. 

^  Comment  De  Regno  Hib.,  page  119. 

3  Vita  Kirwan.  *  Loc.  cit.,  page  61. 


The  Lough  Derg  Pilgrimage.  983 

sought  the  shores  of  the  island  sanctuary  from  even  the 
most  remote  parts  of  Ireland.  It  was  in  persecutions' 
darkest  days  that  Dr.  M'Mahon  found  religion  "  free  and 
public"  within  this  sanctuary,  while  its  functions  had  ceased 
throughout  the  kingdom.  The  numbers  who  came  to  seek 
admission  to  the  reconstructed  "  cave  "  became  so  large 
towards  the  middle  of  the  last  century,  that  the  prior  in 
charge  thought  it  desirable  to  erect  a  church  which  might 
be  used  instead.  Accordingly  the  Church  of  St.  Patrick — ■ 
known  also  as  the  "prison  church" — was  erected.  The 
"cave"  was  then  finally  closed,  and  the  church  has  since 
been  used  as  the  recognised  and  authorised  substitute.  It 
was  then  a  simple  oblong  building,  but  has  since  assumed  a 
cruciform  shape  by  the  addition  of  commodious  transepts. 
It  stands  on  the  north  western:  side  of  the  island. 

On  the  opposite  shore  stands  St.  Mary's  Church.  The 
church  which  stands  there  now,'was  lately  erected  by  the 
present  energetic  prior.  It  is  an  oblong  with  a  small  chancel. 
Its  simple  lancet  windows  and  buttressed  wall  in  ashlar 
present  a  neat  and  effective  exterior. 

Describing  the  sleeping  accommodation  of  the  island. 
Dr.  Lynch  writes : — "  When  night  comes  on,  they  (the 
pilgrims)  lie  down,  not  to  enjoy  repose,  but  to  snatch  a  few 
hours'  sleep.  Their  beds  are  of  straw,  unfurnished  with 
coverlids."^  When  Dr.  M'Mahon  visited  in  the  following 
century,  we  learn  that  the  pilgrims  slept  "  upon  the 
cold  ground."  As  regards  this  feature  in  the  penitential 
exercises  of  the  island,  a  radical  change  has  been  in- 
troduced, but  one  which  we  think  has  been  imperatively 
demanded  by  the  altered  standard  of  delicacy  of  feeling  and 
constitution  peculiar  to  our  age.  A  commodious  hospice  has 
been  accordingly  erected  in  the  island  in  which  sleeping 
accommodation  is  provided  for  even  considerable  numbers. 
While  sufficiently  commodious,  its  internal  arrangements  are 
wisely  in  harmony  with  the  character  of  the  place  and  the 
object  of  the  pilgrimage.  It  may  be  also  added  that  exteriorly 
the  outline  of  the  hospice  is  pleasing  and  monastic. 

1  Vita  Kir  wan,  page  6X. 


984     ''The  Oxford  Movement:  Twelve  Year.<^.     1833-1845." 

Id  the  open  space,  immediately  in  front  of  the  hospice, 
life-size  statues  of  our  Lady,  St.  Joseph,  and  St.  Patrick 
have  been  erected  recently.  They  are  of  marl)le,  and  those 
of  St.  Joseph  and  St.  Patrick,  which  have  been  executed  in 
Eome,  reflect  great  credit  on  the  artist.  That  of  St.  Patrick 
merits  special  attention.  He  is  represented  arrayed  in 
episcopal  robes,  with  mitre  and  crozier,  and  holding  the 
shamrock  raised  aloft  in  his  right  hand,  as  he  ms.j  be  sup- 
posed to  have  held  it  at  Tara  when  illustrating  the  sacred 
dogma  of  the  Trinity  to  the  great  parliament  of  the  nation. 
The  attitude  and  expression  show  a  singular  combination  of 
authority,  dignity,  and  sweetness.  The  erection  in  the 
island  of  those  beautiful  specimens  of  sacred  art  is  a  gratify- 
ing evidence  that  w4iat  is  beautiful  in  sacred  art  in  the 
nineteenth  century  shall  soon  bear  testimony  to  what  was 
heroic  in  the  penitential  spirit  of  our  ancestors ;  and  that 
our  national  sanctuary  may  soon  bear  upon  it  the  visible 
impress  of  a  nation's  love  and  reverence. 

J.  Fahey. 


''  THE  OXFOKD  MOVEMENT :  TWELVE  YEABS. 
1833-1845. "1 

WHEN  a  system  of  thought,  feeling,  or  action  has  secured 
far-reaching  consequences,  and  has  completely  changed 
or  modified  one  side  of  our  national  life,  it  is  well  that  the 
b3ginning,  growth,  and  final  development  of  such  system 
should  be  presented  to  us  from  a  variety  of  points  of  view. 
That  the  Tractarian  movement  did  effect  great  changes  in 
the  Protestantism  of  England,  and  to  a  lesser  extent  in  that 
of  Ireland,  is  undeniable.  We,  therefore,  welcome  a  further 
history  of  its  origin  and  work,  notwithstanding  the  fact 
that  the  story  has  already  been  told  so  fully  and  so  sincerely, 
and  with  so  much   sympathy  and  pathos  by  its  inspiring 

*By  R,  W.  Church,  sometime  Dean  of  St.  Paul's.     London  and  New 
York  :  Macmillan  and  Co, 


''The  Oxford  Movement:  Twelve  Years.     1833-1845."     985 

leader,  by  the  man  who,  better  than  any  other,  knew  its 
real  import,  that,  at  first  sight,  all  other  accounts  would 
seem  to  be  superfluous. 

The  Apologia  of  Cardinal  Newman,  however,  from  its 
very  perfection,  leaves  us,  on  one  point,  in  a  questioning  frame 
of  mind.  It  is,  as  is  well  kiiown,  a  history  of  the  gradual 
emancipation  of  a  soul ;  and  had  the  emancipation  stopped 
short  in  any  inadequate  way,  had  the  dehverance  not  been 
so  complete  and  final  as  it  was,  the  book  had  failed  to  satisfy 
us.  But  it  is  also  well  known,  that  to  many  of  Newman's 
fellow- workers,  to  many  who  shared  his  early  labours  and 
his  first  hopes,  deliverance  never  was  vouchsafed.  When 
their  great  leader  saw  light,  and,  thorny  and  painful  as  was 
the  road,  yet  bravely  followed  its  guidance,  they  hung  back 
and  refused  to  follow.  After  the  first  alarm  and  consterna- 
tion were  passed,  these  disciples  fell  each  into  his  own 
particular  line ;  and  for  the  future,  avoiding  deep  and  heart- 
searching  questions,  they  led  apparently  contented  lives  in  a 
communion  into  which — their  efforts  to  catholicize  it  having 
failed — they  had  merely  succeeded  in  bringing  a  fresh  element 
of  discordant  teaching.  Disappointing  as  we  may  deem  such 
a  fall  from  high  hopes  to  be,  it  is  well  that  we  should  make 
an  effort  to  understand  how  it  came  to  pass.  Men  of  the 
high  calibre  of  certain  of  Newman's  friends  must  have  some- 
thing to  say  for  themselves,  and  to  this  we  are  bound  to 
listen.  We  do  so  the  more  readily  when  the  tale  is  told 
with  the  literary  skill,  the  delicacy  of  touch,  and  the  tolerant 
consideration  for  other  views  which  characterize  Dean 
Church's  volume. 

That  the  volume  before  us  gives  a  satisfactory  answer  to 
the  question,  why  so  many  men  who  went  the  one  mile  with 
Newman,  compelled  thereto  by  piety  and  personal  fascina- 
tion, should  have  resolutely  refused  to  go  the  second  mile, 
we  cannot  affirm.  The  question  is,  probably,  insoluble.  The 
spirit  bloweth  where  it  listeth  ;  one  is  taken,  and  another  is 
left,  and  it  is  not  for  us  to  assign  the  reason.  It  is  easy  to 
make  assertions,  to  impute  interested  or  unworthy  motives, 
to  suppose  abnormal  stupidity,  or  steady  resistance  to 
acknowledged  grace.     But,  in  the  presence  of  the  dignified 


986     ''The  Oxford  Movement:  Twelve  Years.     1838-1845.' 

and  elevating  account  which  Dean  Church  gives  of  the  men 
and  of  the  times  of  which  he  writes,  we  feel  that  such  accusa- 
tions, if  made,  would  but  recoil  on  their  author.  All  that  is 
left  for  us  to  do,  is  to  point  out  how  meagre  and  unsatisfac- 
tory is  the  explanation  of  an  acknowledged  fact,  and  how 
poor  were  the  actual  results  of  the  high  hopes  with  which 
the  Tractarians  started,  so  far  as  they  touched  on  Anglican 
Protestantism. 

The  commencement  of  the  Tract arian  movement  is 
generally  dated  from  Mr.  Keble's  assize  sermon,  preached  at 
Oxford,  in  July,  1833.  Dean  Church  prefaces  his  account  of 
its  early  days  by  a  description  of  the  state  of  the  Establish- 
ment when  Tract arianism  sounded  the  first  note  of  alarm, 
and  the  need  of  defensive  action.  Those  were  days  of 
general  and  of  philosophical  excitement.  The  Eeform 
agitation  had  awakened  and  stirred  many  minds  on  other 
subjects  than  simple  politics,  whilst  the  philosophy  of  Benthan 
and  the  elder  Mill  was  teaching  others  to  probe  deep  ques- 
tions deeply,  to  rest  satisfied  with  no  half  or  inadequate 
answers,  and  to  realize  fully  the  truth  and  reason  of  all  to 
which  their  assent  was  asked.  The  verdict  which  would  be 
the  result  of  such  questioning  concerning  a  rich  and  indolent 
body  like  the  i^nglican  Establishment — a  body  of  w^hich  it 
could  be  truly  said  that  ''it  was  slumbering  and  sleeping 
when  the  visitation  of  change  came  upon  it" — is  not  difficult 
to  prophesy.  That  it  was  told  "  to  put  its  house  in  order" 
by  Whig  statesmen,  has  been  deemed  a  grave  insult,  and  at 
the  time  was  seriously  resented.  The  Tractarian  movement 
was,  however,  an  attempt  to  obey  the  not  unneeded  sum- 
mons, and  its  promoters  may  be  considered  as  striving  to 
justify  the  existence  of  their  Church,  in  reply  to  the  attacks 
of  the  Liberal  school,  by  trying  to  bring  it  more  into  har- 
mony with  the  lofty  pretensions  of  many  of  its  formularies, 
to  put  life  and  reality  into  its  doctrines  and  discipline,  and 
to  imbue  its  members  with  a  high  standard  of  holiness. 

That  this  last  was  the  main  object  of  the  movement,  is 
strongly  insisted  on  in  the  present  volume.  "The  move- 
ment was,  above  all,  a  moral  one  ;  it  was  nothing,  allowed 
to  be  nothing,  if  it  was  not  this."     It  was  a  call  to  a  serious 


''The  Oxford  Movement:  Twelve  Years.     1833-1845."     987 

and  reverend  view  of  religion  and  duty,  and,  above  all,  to  a 
dread  of  unreal  words  in  their  connection,  or  to  professions 
which,  though  not  consciously  insincere,  men  were  not  pre- 
pared to  fulfil  to  the  utmost  in  their  lives.  Newman's 
sermons  at  St.  Mary's  and  Littlemore,  which,  even  more 
than  the  Tracts,  influenced  the  spread  of  the  movement  and 
brought  it  adherents,  were  seldom  doctrinal  in  their  main 
import.  Eather  they  treated,  as  a  rule,  of  that  holiness 
which  "  is  necessary  for  future  blessedness,"  which  was  the 
title  of  his  first  published  sermon.  "  It  was  this  whole- 
heartedness,  this  supreme  reverence  for  moral  goodness, 
more  than  even  the  great  ability  of  the  leaders,  and  in  spite 
of  mistakes  and  failures,  which  gave  its  cohesion  and  its 
momentum  to  the  movement  in  its  early  stages."  It  was 
the  work  of  men  of  deeply  serious  minds,  of  men  to  whom 
God  and  the  unssen  were  the  only  matters  of  real  and  lasting 
interest,  and  to  whom  religion  meant  the  most  awful  and  the 
closest  personal  concern  on  earth.  In  a  world  where  the 
type  of  clergyman  depicted  in  Miss  Austin's  novels — and 
her's  is  no  unfriendly  hand — still  existed,  or  where  much  that 
was  admirable  in  the  more  worthy  and  religious  evangelicals 
was  yet  overlaid  by  pretentious  words  and  inconsistent 
grotesqueness,  it  was  not  wonderful  that  the  effort  to  bring 
about  a  reaction  ''  against  the  slackness  of  fibre  in  the  reli- 
gious world  ;  against  the  poverty,  softness,  restlessness, 
worldliness,  the  blunted  and  impaired  sense  of  truth,  which 
reigned  with  little  check  in  the  recognised  fashions  of  pro- 
fessing Christianity,"  was  felt  to  be  bracing,  and  worth 
striving  after  as  a  high  and  ennobling  aim. 

On  looking  backward,  we  can  now  see  that  what  has  lasted 
and  grown  and  prospered  in  the  Church  of  England  as  the 
result  of  the  Tractarian  movement  is  precisely  that  side  of  it 
of  which  we  have  spoken.  It  is  the  side  with  which  we  and 
all  Christians  can  sympathize — that  increase  and  vitality  in 
their  religious  life  and  in  the  doing  of  good,  and  the  readiness 
to  make  sacrifices  at  the  call  of  duty,  which  were,  and  are 
still  to-day,  to  be  found  in  the  ranks  of  Anglican  High 
Churchmen.  On  its  doctrinal  side  the  movement  was  weak 
and  easily  answered  by  a  theologian.     As  all  men  know,  the 


988     ''The  Oxford  Movement:  Twelve  Years.     1833-1845." 

great  theological  mind  to  whose  adhesion  is  mainly  due  the 
early  successes  of  the  movement,  was  driven,  after  more  than 
one  change  of  his  doctrinal  standpoint,  by  the  mere  exigencies 
of  truth,  to  cut  himself  adrift  from  early  home  and  friends, 
and  to  oppose  the  very  system  he  had  been  the  main  instru- 
ment in  creating.  Had  Newman  been  more  one-sided,  had 
his  intellect  been  subordinated  to  his  moral  sense,  the  issue 
might  have  been  different.  Had  he  been  content  to  take 
unquestioned  all  the  articles  of  the  Creed,  or  even  to  stop 
short  at  the  momentous  one,  "  I  believe  in  the  Catholic 
Church"  he  might  have  shared  the  fate  of  Keble  andPusey, 
indeed  of  Church  himself,  and  died  in  his  blindness.  But 
the  very  questions  which  the  Dean  tells  us  were  the  main 
propositions  of  Tractarianism  on  its  theological  side — What 
is  the  Church?  On  what  grounds  does  it  rest  ?  How  may 
it  be  known?  Is  it  amongst  us? — these  very  questions, 
when  put  to  a  fearless  and  keen  intellect,  to  a  truth-loving 
conscience,  to  a  man  ready  to  brave  all  for  the  sake  of  God 
and  right,  could  bring  forth  but  one  answer. 

We  find  ourselves,  however,  already  discussing  the  con- 
clusion of  this  volume,  before  we  have  made  any  endeavour 
to  place  its  earlier  contents  before  our  readers  ;  an  omission 
on  which,  before  we  attempt  to  rectify  it,  we  will  make  one 
remark.  The  fact  is,  that  the  history  of  the  movement  is 
mainly  interesting  as  the  history  of  Newman  himself.  The 
story  flags  when  he  is  overshadowed,  and  grows  vivid,  life- 
like, and  attractive  the  moment  he  again  springs  into 
prominence.  The  end  comes  with  the  end  of  his  own 
career  in  the  Church  of  England — "  the  catastrophy," 
as,  from  his  point  of  view.  Dean  Church  not  untruly 
calls  Newman's  reception  into  the  ''one  fold  of  Christ." 
Attractive  as  are  the  portraits  of  many  of  the  fellow- 
workers  in  the  movement  of  which  we  read  in  this 
volume,  and  praiseworthy  and  disinterested  as  was  their 
work,  both  they  and  it  fail  in  having  that  indescribable 
but  easily  felt  power  over  us  which  we  call  interesting, 
and  which  Cardinal  Newman  possessed  in  a  supreme  degree. 
The  manner  in  Which  Dean  Church  recurs  again  and  again 
to  Newman  and  to  his  influence  is  evidence  of  the  above 


'"The  Oxford  Movement:  Tioelve  Years.     1833-1845.''     989 

remark;  and  although  Dr.  Pusey  is  nominally  considered 
the  leader  of  the  party  bearing  his  name,  the  very  small 
portion  of  this  history  of  the  movement  which  is  devoted  to 
him  reduces  his  position  to  its  true  proportions ;  whereas 
the  many  pages  in  which  we  read  of  Newman,  show  w^here 
was  the  main  power  and  real  influence.  We  should  not, 
however,  give  a  fair  account  of  Dean  Church's  history  were 
we  not  to  endeavour  to  place  his  descriptions  of  other  men 
before  our  readers. 

"We  are  told  that,  in  the  beginning,  the  movement  was  the 
work  of  three  men.  Keble  gave  the  inspiration;  Hurrell 
Froude  gave  the  propelling  impulse  ;  whilst  Newman  took 
possession  of  the  work,  and  for  the  future  the  direction  was 
his.  With  these  other  and  less  familiar  names  were  asso- 
ciated, men  little  known  to  Catholics,  but  who  may  now  live 
with  an  importance  not  their  own,  as  having  given  Church 
subjects  for  very  perfect  and  delicately-drawn  portraits  in 
words,  and  be  saved  from  oblivion  by  the  excellence  of  his 
sketches — Isaac^Williams  the  poet,  Charles  Marriott,  Cope- 
land  (who  gave  his  name  as  editor  of  Newman's  Anglican 
sermons  when  republished),  Hugh  Eose,  and  others.  They 
were  men  who,  as  a  rule,  had  had  distinguished  university 
careers,  and  whose  lives  were  greatly  influenced  by  one  or 
other  of  the  Tractarian  leaders.  Thus,  Isaac  Williams  came 
up  to  Oxford — where  he  soon  gained  a  scholarship  at  Trinity 
College — as  a  careless  but  ambitious  youth,  "  who  had  never 
heard  a  word  about  Christianity,  and  to  whom  religion,  its 
aims  and  its  restraints,  were  a  mere  name."  He  brought  with 
him  an  introduction  to  Keble,  then  a  great  Oxford  don,  but 
as  an  undergraduate  saw  little  of  him,  until  Keble's  atten- 
tion was  attracted  by  Williams  writing  the  prize  poem  of 
the  year.  Shortly  after,  Keble  offered  to  take  him  as  a 
companion  and  pupil  during  the  vacation,  and  the  influence 
to  which  he  was  subjected  during  these  months  determined 
the  future  direction  of  Williams'  character  and  life.  As  he 
says :  *'  It  was  this  very  trivial  accident  .  .  .  which 
was  the  turning-point  of  my  life."  During  this  vacation 
Williams  came  not  only  to  appreciate  the  essential  charac- 
teristics of  Christianity,  but  he  also  received  a  considerable 


990    ''The  Oxford  Movement:  Twelve  Years.     1833-1845." 

amount  of  theological  teaching.  At  that  date,  such  teaching 
was  rather  that  of  the  old-fashioned,  High  Church  orthodoxy 
than  of  the  neo-**  Catholicism"  of  the  Tractarians.  Indeed, 
to  the  end,  Isaac  Williams  represented  the  more  moderate 
side  of  the  movement — the  side  which  was  averse  from  all 
change,  and  which  relied  more  on  infusing  greater  reality 
into  religious  teaching,  and  more  self-discipline  into  the 
lives  of  the  teachers,  than  on  new  views,  or  even  on  the 
reassertion  of  old  truths,  for  awakening  and  deepening  the 
Christianity  of  England. 

A  chapter  in  this  volume  is  also  devoted  to  Charles 
Marriott ;  and  in  it  we  have  a  life-like  portrait  of  a  little- 
appreciated,  though  very  useful  type  of  man.  Marriott  had 
gained  high  academical  distinction,  and  could  well  have 
obtained  an  independent  position,  yet  he  was  content  humbly 
to  live  his  life  in  the  spirit  of  a  disciple,  and  never  wished  to 
shine  except  with  the  reflected  light  of  his  master.  When 
brought  under  Newman's  influence,  he  placed  his  whole  life 
and  talents  at  the  services  of  the  former,  in  his  endeavours 
to  reanimate  and  elevate  the  Establishment.  Marriott  was 
willing  to  take  the  modest,  though  necessary  part  of  a  trans- 
lator, a  collator,  an  editor  of  other  men's  writings.  He 
believed  that  the  leaders  were  wiser  than  himself,  and  was 
satisfied  with  doing  the  work  they  assigned  him,  this  being 
"  to  raise  the  standard  of  knowledge  of  early  Christian 
literature,  and  to  make  that  knowledge  accurate  and  scholar- 
like." To  his  life's  end,  we  are  told,  he  continued 
"a  disciple."  Unfortunately,  however,  instead  of  allowing 
his  master  to  lead  him  onwards,  when  the  final  change  came, 
and  a  real  sacrifice  was  demanded,  he  drew  back;  and,  instead 
of  venturing  all  for  a  great  gain,  he  simply  transferred  his 
allegiance  to  Newman's  successor  (we  suppose  Pusey  is 
meant),  and  served  him,  too,  with  equal  diligence.  With 
these  men  were  associated  Percival,  William  Palmer  (not 
the  future  Catholic),  and  Hugh  Eose. 

The  alarm  at  this  moment  amongst  Churchmen  was  very 
genuine.  The  Establishment  was  assailed  by  foes  from 
without,  and  its  defence  so  far  had  been  undertaken,  at  best, 
after  a  half-hearted  fashion  by  its  members.   Indeed,  amongst 


''The  Oxford  Movement:  Twelve  Years.     1833-1845."     991 

these  were  many  whom  it  was  difficult  to  distinguish  from 
open  enemies,  so  ready  did  they  seem  to  yield  all  that  the 
latter  might  ask ;  and,  still  worse,  the  Tractarians  could 
discern  no  principle  in  the  public  mind  to  which  they  could 
appeal,  no  consistent  theory  of  Church  government  or 
doctrinal  basis  on  which  they  could  rely.  The  country  was 
inundated  with  pamphlets  on  Church  reform  and  Church 
enlargement,  meaning  generally  little  besides  Church  de- 
spoiling and  Church  dismemberment ;  whilst  the  abolition  of 
the  creeds  and  all  that  distinguished  the  Establishment  from 
the  sects  around  her,  was  openly  advocated.  The  necessity  of 
speedy  action  was  obvious ;  the  danger  was  imminent ; 
indeed,  if  it  could  be  averted  for  a  while,  the  Tractarians  were 
hopeful  that  they  could  stem  the  anti-religious  current 
which  threatened  to  ingulf  so  much  they  reverenced  and 
valued.  "  I  should  have  little  fear,  if  I  thought  we  could 
stand  for  ten  or  fifteen  years  as  we  are,"  wrote  Mr.  Rose. 

The  means  taken  by  the  friends  of  the  existing  order  to 
baffie  its  assailant,  seem,  at  first  sight,  somewhat  inadequate. 
The  idea  of  founding  an  association  to  defend  their  cause 
was  suggested  ;  but,  being  found  unworkable,  was  abandoned, 
and  an  address  to  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  was  the 
only  action  determined  on.  It  had  greater  success  and 
influence  than  could  have  been  expected,  and  bore  the 
signatures  of  seven  thousand  clergymen  ;  and,  moreover,  was 
followed  by  a  lay  address,  signed  by  two  hundred  and  thirty 
thousand  heads  of  families.  Besides  the  large  number  of 
those  who  actually  signed,  the  fact  that  a  canvass  for  names 
was  being  carried  on  must  have  brought  to  many  more 
thousands  the  knowledge  that  a  stir  was  in  the  air  ;  and,  as 
a  fact,  the  Tractarians  dated  the  turn  of  the  tide  in  their 
favour  to  the  presentation  of  these  two  addresses.  Had 
nothing  more  followed,  it  is  not  probable  that  such  an 
assertion  would^have  been  possible  ;  but,  behind  the  addresses 
and  in  full  sympathy  with  their  object,  were  the  three  men 
of  whom  we  spoke  above,  Keble,  and  Hurrell  Froude, 
and,  above  all,  Newman.  Although,  however,  agreeing  that 
the  addresses  were  useful,  so  far  as  they  went,  the  three 
friends  considered  that  something  more  direct,  more  awaken- 


992     ''The  Oxford  Movement:  Tioelve  Years.     1833-1845." 

ing,  even  more  startling,  was  called  for  by  the  evils  of  the 
day,  and  the  issue  of  the  Tracts  for  the  Times  was  determined 
on,  and  thus  the  struggle  began  in  earnest. 

Out  of  his  own  head  Newman  began  the  Tracts,  and  in 
their  brief,  clear,  but  stern  intensity  they  were  something 
very  different  from  anything  of  the  kind  yet  heard  in  England. 
He  wrote  in  the  buoyant  frame  of  mind  which  resulted  from 
the  renewed  health  and  strength  that  followed  his  serious 
illness  in  Sicily,  in  the  "  exultation  of  health  restored  and 
home  regained."  Dean  Church  gives  in  full  the  first  Tract. 
It  was  addressed  to  "  The  Presbyters  and  Deacons  of  the 
Church  of  Christ  in  England;"  and  if  we  put  ourselves  in 
the  place  of  the  average,  comfortably  established  parson? 
with  his  snug  rectory  and  garden  and  happy  family  relations, 
we  cannot  wonder  that  the  appeal  to  be  drawn  from 
their  pleasant  retreats  into  the  arena  of  strife  and  battle 
for  great  principles  (principles,  too,  which  they  hardly 
understood)  found  little  response ;  or,  that  the  still  bolder 
wish  that  the  bishops  might  have  a  blessed  termination  to 
their  course  in  the  spoiling  of  their  goods  and  eventual 
martyrdom,  was  as  deeply  resented  as  the  Whig  threat  of 
Disestablishment. 

But,  though  this  was  the  case  in  the  country,  from  the 
first,  at  Oxford,  the  Tracts  were  a  powerful  force  which  soon 
greatly  influenced  the  whole  University.  They  now  followed 
each  other  in  rapid  succession,  and  by  the  end  of  the  next 
year  had  reached  the  number  of  forty-six,  and  were  repub- 
lished as  a  volume.  "Whilst  these  were  enforcing  some 
elementary  Catholic  truths,  a  still  more  potent  influence 
in  the  same  direction  was  brought  to  bear  on  Oxford  at 
St.  Mary's  Church.  Here  Newman  was  preaching  his 
famous  parochial  and  university  sermons  every  Sunday 
afternoon ;  and  in  these  discourses  the  full  meaning  of  the 
doctrines,  and  their  bearing  on  our  lives  and  daily  conduct, 
was  enlarged  on  and  developed.  ''  While  men  were  reading 
and  talking  about  the  Tracts,  they  were  hearing  the  sermons  : 
and  in  the  sermons  they  heard  the  living  meaning  and  reason 
and  bearing  of  the  Tracts,  their  ethical  affinities,  their  moral 
standard."   Thus,  at  the  same  time,  men  were  intellectually 


"  The  Oxford  Movement :  Twelve  Years.     1833-1845."   993 

brought  to  acknowledge  truths,  whilst  their  will  and  their 
heart  were  engaged  in  the  task  of  making  their  life  accord 
with  them.  The  result  could  not  but  be  the  elevation  of 
the  whole  tone  of  the  University. 

In  the  early  days  of  its  success,  the  party  were  fortunate 
in  securing  Dr.  Pusey  as  a  coadjutor.  Though  sympathetic, 
he  had  at  first  abstained  from  identifying  himself  with  the 
movement ;  but  in  its  second  year  he  definitely  joined  it.  He 
was  aman  of  influence  on  account  of  his  ''religious  seriousness, 
his  deep  learning,  his  position  of  professor  at  Oxford,  and  his 
friendly  relations  with  the  University  authorities."  His 
adhesion  changed  the  character  of  the  Tracts.  In  the  place 
of  short,  startling,  often  one-sided,  and  in  many  ways  in- 
complete papers,  they  became  regular  theological  treatises, 
and  for  the  future  were  either  carefully  elaborated  essays  on 
questions  then  being  discussed,  or  else  catenae  of  patristic 
or  of  Anglican  divinity,  intended  to  support  the  theories 
advocated  by  the  Tractarians.  Dr.  Pusey's  co-operatioji 
was,  moreover,  a  voucher  that,  however  novel  might  be  their 
teaching,  nothing  adverse  to  the  Church  of  England  was 
intended  ;  that  the  leaders  knew  what  they  were  about ;  and 
that  only  benefit  to  the  Establishment  would  result  from 
their  efforts. 

So  far,  many  things  had  favoured  the  spread  of  the 
movement,  and  in  many  ways  its  promoters  might  count 
themselves  happy.  The  time,  the  locality,  and  above  all, 
the  great  leader  tended  to  arrest  attention.  As  we  before 
said,  these  were  days  of  wide-spread  intellectual  activity. 
The  emancipation  and  political  triumph  of  the  Catholic 
Church  had  re-awakened  the  animosity  of  her  enemies ;  and 
whilst  the  Tractarians  w^ere  preaching  doctrines  hardly  dis- 
tinguishable from  her  own,  the  Evangelicals,  on  their  side, 
started  a  "  Keformation  Society,"  which  commenced  an 
''anti-popery"  agitation  all  over  the  country.  Although 
this  opposition,  which  soon  became  directed  as  hotly  against 
the  Tractarians  as  against  the  Church,  may,  at  first  sight, 
appear  to  have  been  dangerous,  its  result  in  the  end  was  the 
very  reverse  from  damaging ;  for,  not  only  did  it  arouse 
men's   interest,  and  set    them    inquiring   and   questioning 

VOL.  XII.  3  R 


994  ''  The  Oxjord  Movement :  Twelve  Years.    1833-1845." 

concerning  the  matter  in  debate,  but  the  very  violence  and 
unscrupuloiisness  of  the  attacks  often  rebounded  on  their 
authors,  and  their  exaggeration  produced  the  very  opposite 
effect  to  that  wished  for  or  intended.  Oxford,  too,  was  a 
worthy  stage  for  the  acting  of  the  theological  drama,  which 
was  played  out  between  1833  and  1845.  The  University 
has  always  had  a  self-centred  life  of  its  own  ;  and  if  in  these 
days  of  rapid  communication,  and  the  annihilation  of  dis- 
tance, it  is  now  less  noticeable,  in  the  first  half  of  the 
century,  before  even  a  railway  came  within  many  miles  of 
Oxford,  its  isolation  as  a  school  of  thought  was  still  complete. 
Oxford  had  its  own  fashions  and  ways,  its  own  social  ranks 
and  positions,  its  laws  and  discipline,  and  its  special  charac- 
teristics. Although  its  proud  claim  to  be  pre-eminently  the 
guardian  of  "  true  religion  and  sound  learning  "  occasioned 
in  its  midst  a  certain  jealousy  of  innovation,  yet  a  place 
where  all  the  actors  knew  one  another,  and  were  meeting 
daily,  a  place  where  the  atmosphere  was  full  of  controversy 
and  intelligent  and  critical  humour,  was  no  inappropriate 
locale  for  a  "  Church  Kevival."  On  such  a  scene  appeared 
Newman,  with  his  fascinating  personality,  his  unsought 
influence,  and,  above  all,  his  heart-searching  sermons — 
those  deeply  sympathetic  addresses,  wherein  each  and  every 
soul  could  find  an  answer  to  its  questions  and  a  power  against 
its  temptations. 

As  we  stated  before,  had  the  movement  been  only  ethical, 
the  issue  might  have  been  widely  different.  But,  besides 
inculcating  sincerity  of  feeling,  simplicity  of  life,  and  an 
elevated  standard  of  character,  Newman  had  early  realized 
that  true  holiness  cannot  exist  unless  it  be  based  on  a  firm 
and  consistent  faith.  Although  questions  of  doctrine  were 
not  prominently  forced  to  the  front,  the  acceptance  of  an 
orthodox  standard  of  Anglican  belief  was  presupposed ;  and 
aa  effort  was  made  to  put  reality  into  the  words  which,  by 
constant  unheeded  repetition  had  come  to  mean  little  to 
many  who  used  them.  The  Tracts  had  been  started  with 
the  idea  of  setting  forth  the  strong  but  forgotten  claims  of 
the  Church,  and  not  unnaturally  the  question.  What  is  the 
Church  ?  speedily  followed  the  attempt  to  create  an  interest 


**  The  Oxford  Movement :  Ttoelve  Years.     1833-1845."    995 

in  her  welfare.  To  many,  she  represented  a  mere  abstrac- 
tion; to  others,  she  was  only  the  nation  on  its  religious  side; 
or  again,  she  was  simply  the  aggregate  of  all  good  Christians 
of  every  creed  or  sect  throughout  the  world.  The  Tractarians 
had,  however,  mastered  the  truth  so  far  as  to  believe  that 
the  Church  was  the  kingdom  of  Christ,  founded  by  Him, 
and  resting  on  a  visible  organization,  with  a  power  of 
teaching  the  truth,  and  of  imparting  heavenly  ordinances. 
With  so  true  a  belief  before  them,  and  face  to  face  with  the 
difficulty  of  harmonizing  it  with  the  established  body  of 
which  they  formed  a  part,  it  was  certain  that  what  was 
styled  the  "  Roman  question,"  would  soon  become  of 
irrepressible  importance. 

As  we  said  of  the  Apologia,  so  we  may  say  of  the  move- 
ment, that  it  is  mainly  the  history  of  the  emancipation  of 
Newman's  soul ;  and  this  being  so,  it  is  worth  while  to 
follow  in  detail  the  steps  by  which  he  extricated  himself 
from  his  early  errors.  He  had  started  with  the  popular 
belief  that  the  Pope  was  Anti-Christ,  and  that  the  case  was 
so  clear  against  the  whole  Roman  system,  as  to  need  no 
further  examination — it  carried  its  own  condemnation  on  its 
very  front.  As  we  read  lately  in  his  Letters,  he  wrote  :  "As 
to  the  Roman  system,  I  have  ever  detested  it  so  much,  that 
I  cannot  detest  it  more  by  seeing  it  " — an  opinion,  indeed, 
which  is  more  consistent  with  itself,  and  more  easy  to 
understand,  than  the  more  temperate  views  by  which  it  was 
succeeded.  If  the  Church  is  not  all  she  claims  to  be,  we 
fully  admit  that  she  is  an  impostor ;  and  as  such,  of  her  very 
nature  she  is  anti-Christian.  With  the  majesty  and  power 
of  the  Church,  Newman  appears  always  to  have  been 
impressed;  but,  at  first,  they  had  seemed  to  him  to  represent 
the  greatness  of  a  Babylon,  the  magnificence  of  a  fallen 
spirit — great  merely  for  evil,  which,  whilst  it  might  fascinate, 
must  yet  be  opposed  by  all  on  God's  side.  The  study  even 
of  Anglican  divinity  served  somewhat  to  modify  these  views ; 
and  although  still  holding  that  the  "Romanism"  of  the 
modern  Church  was  seriously  corrupt,  yet  he  gradually  came 
to  admit  that  the  body  in  communion  with  Rome  had  not 
altogether  forfeited  the  claim  to  form  part  of  the  Church  of 


990    ''  The  Oxford  Movement :  Twelve  Years.     1833-1845/' 

Christ.  The  arguments  against  Kome,  he  speedily  discovered, 
required  sifting.  Many  must  be  discarded  as  proving  too 
much,  and  as  fatal  to  belief  in  any  Church  at  all.  Others 
were  founded  on  misrepresentation  arising  out  of  popular 
ignorance,  and  if  seriously  relied  on,  would  simply  recoil  on 
their  own  party. 

Together  with  Newman's  knowledge  of  the  extravagance 
and  falsity  of  much  in  the  Protestant  conception  of  the 
Church,  came  a  change  in  his  animus.  Rome  to  him  was 
no  longer  Anti-Christ,  but  a  strange  and  wonderful  mixture 
of  good  and  bad,  attractive  from  her  greatness,  for  the 
extent  of  her  sway,  her  world-wide  organization,  and  her 
imperial  authority,  and  because  she  surpassed  every  other 
form  of  religion,  for  good  as  well  as  for  evil.  The  evils,  how- 
ever, were  so  evident,  and  Rome's  claim  to  supremacy  and 
infallibility  were  so  inadmissible,  that  either  submission  to 
her,  or  union  with  her  were  impossible.  The  duty  of 
Anglicans,  he  held,  was  to  resist  Rome  ;  but,  in  doing  so,  it 
w^as  not  necessary,  nor  was  it  truthful,  to  have  recourse  to 
indiscriminate  and  coarse  abuse,  or  to  deny  the  good  which 
was  to  be  found  mingled  with  the  supposed  evil.  The  idea 
of  a  pure  Church  on  the  one  hand,  and  of  a  hopelessly 
corrupt  body  on  the  other,  was  exchanged  for  that  of  two 
portions  of  the  Church  of  Christ,  each  with  its  own  history 
and  life  and  character,  existing  side  by  side,  neither  being 
perfect,  and  neither  realizing,  in  fact,  all  that  they  professed 
in  theory ;  yet  neither  having  so  sinned  as  to  have  forfeited 
the  promises  of  Christ.  We  are  told  that  Newman  dared  to 
know  and  acknowledge  much  of  real  Christian  life  in  the 
Church  of  Rome  that  our  insular  self-satisfaction  did  not 
care  or  wish  to  know,  and  to  own  that  much  that  was 
considered  **  Popery  "  was  really  ''  Catholic;"  though  whilst 
he  did  this,  he  fiercely  attacked,  and,  as  he  supposed,  with  a 
hand  strengthened  by  the  fact  of  its  moderation  elsewhere, 
the  main  notes  of  the  Church's  apostolicity  and  infallibility. 
But,  as  is  freely  admitted,  it  is  easier  for  an  Anglican  to 
upset  in  argument  the  authority  of  the  Church  than  to 
indicate  by  what  authority  it  is  to  be  replaced.  The  Via 
Media,  as  Newman's  theory  was  called,  though  it  may  be 


"  The  Oxford  Movement :  Twelve  Years.     1833-1845.'    997 

supposed  fatal  to  the  claims  of  the  Catholic  Church,  denies 
the  existence  of  any  teaching  Church  whatsoever.  If  Eome 
may  not  teach  infallibly,  in  spite  of  her  historic  claim  to  do 
so,  England,  without  making  any  such  claim,  undoubtedly 
cannot  do  so  either ;  and  the  teaching  office  of  the  Church 
is  denied  or  considered  to  be  in  abeyance.  Dean  Church, 
indeed,  goes  further,  and  ventures  to  assert  that  in  the 
"  earJy  and  undivided  Church,"  though  there  was  such  a 
thing  as  authority,  there  was  no  such  thing  as  infallibility. 
Were  we  to  allow  this,  and  to  agree  that  no  claim  to  teach 
absolute  truth  was  ever  made  in  the  first  centuries,  we  must 
admit  with  the  sceptic  that  we  receive  even  the  creeds  of  the 
Church  on  inadequate  grounds. 

To  the  Via  Media  two  objections  were  made,  and  were 
never  satisfactorily  answered.  The  first  was,  that,  although 
the  authority  of  the  early  Church  was  appealed  to,  her 
definitions  could  only  apply  to  early  controversies;  and 
that,  as  a  fact,  the  decisions  of  the  first  centuries  had  left 
untouched  a  great  portion  of  the  deposit  of  the  faith. 
Secondly — and  this  objection  appears  to  Dean  Church  the 
more  serious  of  the  two  : — 

"  Your  theory  is  nothing  but  a  paper  theory;  it  never  was  a 
reality  ;  it  never  can  be.  There  may  be  an  ideal  '  halting-place, 
there  is  neither  a  logical  nor  an  actual  one,  between  Eomanism 
and  the  ordinary  negations  of  Protestantism.'  The  answer  to 
the  challenge  then  was,  *  Let  us  see  if  it  cannot  be  realized.  It 
has  recognised  foundations  to  build  upon,  and  the  impediments 
and  interruptions  which  have  hindered  it  are  well  known.  Let 
us  see  if  it  will  not  turn  out  something  more  than  a  paper 
theory.'  " 

This  answer  was  given  in  1835,  but  was  abandoned  in 
1845,  needlessly,  thinks  Dean  Church,  as,  in  his  opinion, 
whatever  may  be  the  failings  of  the  Church  of  England,  she 
has  at  least  shown  in  the  last  fifty  years,  that  she  is  no 
''  paper  "  Church.  We  have  no  wish  to  assert  that  she  has; 
but,  whilst  we  admit  as  much,  we  yet  assert  that  the  Via 
Media  is  a  "paper"  theory;  and  that  by  its  abandonment, 
and  not  by  its  maintenance,  the  Church  of  England  has 
worked  successfully,  so  far  as  she  can  claim  success.     We 


998  "  The  Oxford  Movement :  Twelve  Years.     1833-1845." 

should  be  anticipating  were  we  to  enlarge  on  this  topic  here  ; 
but  the  very  canons  by  which  Dean  Church  bids  us  judge 
of  the  Establishment  to-day,  merely  by  its  work  and  zeal  in 
doing  good,  are  beside  the  mark,  so  far  as  the  theory  is 
concerned. 

The  first  years  of  the  movement  were  those  of  its  chief 
success.  Newman  still  possessed  unbounded  confidence  in 
his  position  ;  no  doubt  had  yet  assailed  him,  nor  had  it 
crossed  his  mind  that,  although  he  might  hold  his  own 
against  popular  Protestantism,  in  the  closer  fight  with  Rome 
he  would  be  driven  to  yield.  Troubles  from  his  Protestant 
enemies  were,  however,  near  at  hand ;  and  whilst  these 
were  gathering  into  a  storm  of  University  and  Episcopal 
condemnation,  the  little  rift  in  the  party  itself  unexpectedly 
opened — the  rift  that  was  to  widen  into  an  impassable  gulf 
— and  whilst  it  shattered  the  fortunes  of  the  movement, 
shook  the  very  foundations  of  the  Establishment. 

In  1889,  whilst  deep  in  patristic  studies,  the  thought,  like 
the  apparition  of  a  ghost,  suddenly  flashes  through  Newman  : 
"  The  Church  of  Rome  will  be  found  right  after  all,"  and 
henceforth  to  him  "the  world  is  never  the  same  again." 
A  new  struggle  began,  and  from  this  moment  the  Tractarian 
party  was  divided  in  two,  and  the  body  of  men  who  had  so 
far  acted  in  perfect  unison,  began  to  show  a  double  aspect, 
whilst  their  great  leader  wrestled  with  conflicting  calls  and 
duties — between  the  simple  and  undivided  truth,  and  home 
and  country,  early  associations  and  present  hopes,  the  ties  of 
kindred  and  the  affection  of  friends.  The  division  in  the 
party  soon  became  manifest  in  its  works  and  writings. 
Whilst  most  of  the  earlier  members  still  confined  their 
labour  to  improving  the  existing  Church  of  England, 
Newman  and  the  more  recent  recruits  were  searching  their 
hearts  as  to  whether  the  body  in  question  was  a  part  of 
Christ's  Church  at  all ;  whether,  in  working  for  her,  they 
might  not  be  working  against  the  Catholic  Church.  The 
conflict  lasted  for  years,  and  it  was  long  before  Newman 
could  definitely  settle  the  antagonistic  claims  by  which  he 
was  confronted.  The  ideal  of  the  early  Church  was  always 
before  him,  specially  in  its  double  aspect  of  Apostolicity  and 


'' The  Oxford  Movement :   Ticelve  Years.     1833-1845."  999 

Catholicity  ;  and  whilst,  on  the  one  hand,  the  non-Catholicity 
of  the  Anglican  body  was  obvious  to  all ;  on  the  other,  his 
study  of  the  early  Fathers  had  led  him  to  suppose  that  the 
Eoman  Church  was  non-apostolic,  in  so  much  as  her  teaching 
went  beyond  that  of  the  first  centuries,  and  defined  much  then 
left  untouched .  Until  he  could  explain  the  apparent  difference 
between  the  teaching  of  the  first  ages  of  Christianity  and  the 
present  faith  of  the  Catholic  Church,  he  could  not  bring  himself 
to  throw  in  his  lot  with  her's.  The  link  was  at  length 
found  in  the  theory  of  the  gradual  development  of  Christian 
doctrine,  a  theory  which  anticipated  in  the  realms  of  theology 
Darwin's  explanation  of  phenomena  in  the  world  of  natural 
history  and  science — a  theory  by  which  we  discover  the 
gradual  growth  of  the  Catholic  faith  from  the  mustard-seed 
of  its  first  deposit,  and  by  which  the  essential  unity  of  the 
Church's  teaching  through  centuries  of  definitions  is  made 
manifest,  and  the  doctrines  of  to-day  with  those  of  the 
Apostles  are  proved  to  be  one,  in  the  same  sense  as  the  full 
ear  of  corn  is  one  with  the  grain  from  which  it  springs. 
Newman's  mind  being  satisfied  on  this  point,  the  apostolicity 
of  the  Church  being  proved : — 

"  Then  the  force  of  the  great  vision  of  the  Catholic  Church 
came  upon  him  unchecked  and  irresistible.  That  was  a  thing 
present,  visible,  undeniable  as  a  fact  of  nature  ;  that  was  a  thing 
atj  once  old^  and  new ;  it  belonged  as  truly,  as  manifestly,  to  the 
recent  and  modern  world  of  democracy  and  science  as  it  did  to 
the  >J  iddle  Ages  and  the  Fathers,  to  the  world  of  Gregory  and 
Innocent,  to  the  world  of  Athanasius  and  Augustine.  The 
majesty,  the  vastness  of  an  imperial  polity,  outlasting  all  states 
and  kingdoms,  all  social  changes  and  political  revolutions, 
answered  at  once  to  the  promises  of  the  prophecies,  and  to  the 
antecedent  idea  of  the  universal  Kingdom  of  God.  Before  this 
great  idea,  embodied  in  concrete  form,  and  not  a  paper  doctrine, 
partial  scandals  and  abuses  seemed  to  sink  into  insignificance. 
Objections  seemed  petty  and  ignoble  ;  the  pretence  of  rival  systems, 
impertinent  and  absurd.  He  resented  almost  with  impatience  any- 
thing in  the  way  of  theory  or  explanation  which  seemed  to  him 
narrow,  technical,  dialectical.  He  would  look  at  nothing  but 
what  had  on  it  the  mark  of  greatness  and  largeness  which  befitted 
the  awful  subject,  and  was  worthy  of  arresting  the  eye  and 
attention  of  an  ecclesiastical  statesman,  alive  to  mighty  interests, 
compared  to  which  even  the  most  serious  human  affairs  were 
dwarfed  and  obscured." 


1000  ''The  Oxford  Movement :  Twelve  Years.     1833-1845." 

That  one  who  could  thus  write — as  Dean  Church  writes — 
of  the  effect  of  God's  Church  on  another,  should  have  him- 
self remained  insensible  to  her  influence,  is  a  saddening 
reflection.  Beside  this  picture  of  a  great  organization,  of  a 
world-reaching  religion,  of  the  only  Christian  body  worthy  of 
being  the  earthly  representation  of  the  power  of  God,  all 
trivial  objections  do,  indeed,  seem  petty  and  ignoble  ;  and  that 
he  who  could  thus  designate  them  should  yet  have  been 
their  slave,  seems  inexplicable. 

To  return,  however,  to  Oxford.  At  the  time  that  Newman's 
doubts  were  becoming  urgent,  the  movement  was  joined  by 
men  differing  in  many  ways  from  its  first  promoters — men 
without  strong  affection  for  the  Church  of  England,  who 
were  impatient  of  her  logical  inconsistencies,  who  required 
distinct  answers  to  distinct  questions,  and  positive  proof  for 
much  that  the  earlier  school  had  taken  for  granted ;  above 
all,  men  to  whom  the  great  Church  of  Eome  was  ever  present 
as  an  ideal,  from  which,  although  they  were  shut  off,  they 
were  yet  anxious  to  conform  to.  These  were  anxious  not  so 
much  to  improve  the  Establishment  on  the  old  lines,  as  to 
approximate  it  so  far  as  possible  to  the  perfect  Catholicity  of 
Rome,  their  "Ideal  of  a  Christian  Church."  Amongst  the 
most  prominent  of  the  neo-Tractarians  we  may  name  Ward, 
Dalgairns,  Faber,  and  Oakeley,  who  all  followed  Newman 
ill  his  all-important  change,  and  to  whom,  later  on,  the 
Church  was  indebted  for  good  and  serviceable  work. 

Into  the  outside  opposition  which  forced  the  hand  of  the 
advanced  section  of  the  Tractarian  party,  we  do  not  now 
propose  to  enter.  The  attitude  of  the  bishops,  the  con- 
demnation by  the  Oxford  authorities,  even  the  University 
degradation  of  Mr.  Ward,  are  an  oft-told  tale,  and  have  been 
lately  fully  discussed  in  notices  both  of  Dr.  Ward's  Life,  and 
Cardinal  Newman's  Letters.  The  end  of  the  Tractarian 
hopes,  however,  was  the  result  more  of  the  action  of  the 
leader  of  the  party  than  the  effect  of  any  outward  opposition. 
The  enmity  of  Protestantism  would  only  have  braced  the 
party ;  the  defection  of  its  chief  annihilated  it.  Its  foes  proved, 
indeed,  to  be  those  of  its  own  household,  and  the  story  of  the 
great   *' catastrophy"    which    shattered    the   party  and  de- 


"  The  Oxford  Movement:  Twelve  Years.     1833-1845."  1001 

stroyed  the  hope  of  converting  the  Establishment  into  an 
integral  part  of  the  Church  of  Christ,  is  told,  not  without  a 
certain  pathos,  by  Dean  Church,  though  he  fails  to  admit  its 
full  destructive  force.  To  the  remnant  that  refused  to  follow 
Newman,  his  secession  and  those  which  accompanied  it, 
were  merely  a  cloud ;  a  very  black  cloud,  it  is  true,  yet  only  to 
be  looked  on  as  a  mere  temporary  hindrance  to  the  restora- 
tion to  our  country  of  the  Catholic  faith.  To  us,  however, 
these  events  seem  of  greater  importance  ;  and,  considering 
the  high  hopes  of  1833  and  their  result,  not  only  in  1845,  but 
to-day,  we  cannot  but  think  that  with  the  final  relinquish- 
ment of  Newman's  hopes  for  the  Establishment,  the 
Tractarian  movement  ceased  to  exist.  The  keenest  intellect, 
the  loftiest  mind,  and  the  finest  character  engaged  in  the 
experiment,  was  obliged  sorrowfully  to  own  that  he  had 
failed  in  engrafting  the  Catholic  Church  on  to  the  Estab- 
lished Eeligion ;  and  to  admit  that  the  English  Church,  on 
nearer  sight,  was  discovered  to  be,  not  an  indolent,  an 
unworthy,  or  even  a  corrupt  part  of  the  Catholic  Church ; 
but  that,  notwithstanding  many  excellencies  as  a  religious 
body,  it  was  yet  altogether  outside  the  one  Church  of  Christ. 
And  with  this  view — viz.,  the  extinction  of  Tractarianism 
as  a  serious  school  of  thought — we  fail  to  see  that  Dean 
Church's  last  statement  in  any  way  clashes.  He  tells  us 
that,  when  recovering  from  the  first  consternation  and  alarm 
of  1845,  the  party  sought  again  for  a  principle  by  which  they 
might  measure  their  rule  of  life,  the  Via  Media  was  not 
revived,  nor  was  the  stale  assertion  made  that  in  all  things 
England  was  as  simply  right  as  Kome  was  wrong.  Nor  at 
this  date  was  the  hollow  theory  of  a  Church  with  geogra- 
phical limits  yet  advanced,  a  Church  which,  whilst  it  was 
Catholic  in  England,  was  schismatic  abroad,  with  the  corre- 
lative assertion  that  the  Catholic  Church  in  England  is  a  mere 
intruder,  and  is  to  be  shunned  as  such.  No,  the  appeal  was 
made  from  "  brilliant  logic,  and  keen  sarcasm,  and  pathetic 
and  impressive  eloquence,  to  reality  and  experience,  as  well 
as  to  history  as  to  the  positive  and  substantial  characteristics 
of  the  traditional  and  actually  existing  English  Church, 
shown  not  on  paper  but  in  work,  and  in  spite  of  contradic- 
tory appearances  and  inconsistent  elements." 


1002  ''The  Oxford  Movement:  Twelve  Years.      833-1845.'* 

Shorn  of  all  rhetoric,  this  would  amount  to  saying  that 
the  appeal  was  made  simply  to  the  work,  past  and  present, 
of  the  Church  of  England  ;  that  work  which,  vrhilst  we  have 
no  wish  to  decry  its  excellence  or  to  lessen  its  importance, 
we  have  no  hesitation  in  affirming,  is  to  be  fo^ind  as  active 
and  as  successful  in  every  other  religious  body  in  England 
as  in  the  Establishment.  To  depend  on  the  v3xcellence  of 
the  work  done  by  the  so-called  **  Catholic"  school  for  its 
justification,  is  to  undermine  the  very  found^itions  of  the 
definite  creed  by  which  the  Tractarians  sought;  to  stem  the 
latitudinarianism  of  their  day.  Newman's  action  had 
evidenced  that  either  the  principles  of  the  movement 
must  be  abandoned,  or  their  legitimate  is^ne  would  be 
found  in  submission  to  the  Catholic  Church  To  appeal 
from  his  dictum  to  the  good  work  done  by  the  party  since 
1845  is  surely  beside  the  mark,  differs  little  from  liberalism  in 
religion,  and  simply  plays  into  the  hands  of  thocie  who  main- 
tain indifference  to  all  dogma  so  long  as  a  good  and  holy  life 
is  led.  The  assertion  that  the  successes  which  have  followed 
the  labours  of  the  High  Church  school  in  late  years  should 
be  considered  as  vindicating  the  movement,  and  being 
beyond  those  for  which  the  most  sanguine  Tractarian  hoped, 
we  think  is  evidence  that  at  the  date  when  Dean  Church 
wrote  he  must  have  entirely  forgotten  what  those  hopes 
were.  That,  in  externals.  Catholic  worship  \)i  emulated — - 
even  that  the  religious  life  of  many  is  modelled  on  a  Catholic 
form,  avails  little.  The  luxury  of  the  age  may  account  for 
much  of  the  first ;  the  very  reaction  from  such  luxury  may, 
perhaps,  account  for  the  second.  But,  while  the  Catholic 
truth  which  underlies  both  is  as  hotly  denied  by  some  in 
the  Establishment  as  it  is  eagerly  maintained  oy  others,  we 
can  only  reassert  our  opening  statement — aiz.,  that  the 
principal  result  of  the  Tractarian  movement,  putting  aside 
its  happier  effect  in  leading  many  souls  into  Ihe  Church,  is 
simply  to  bring  another  element  of  discordant  teaching  into 
the  Anglican  body ;  and  that,  so  far  as  the  movement  aspired 
to  prove  her  to  be  one  with  the  Church  of  Christ  throughout 
the  world,  it  failed  disastrously. 

Evelyn  Moedaunt. 


[     1003    ] 


THE  APOSTLESHIP  OF  PKAYEK.— II. 

ITS   SIMPLICITY  AND    USEFULNESS. 

rpHE  Holy  League  of  the  Sacred  Heart  has  been,  as 
L  already  said,^  approved  of  by  Pope  Pius  IX.  of  blessed 
memory,  by  the  present  supreme  Pontiff,  even  while  he  was 
still  but  Archbishop  of  Perugia;  while  during  the  twelve  years 
of  his  pontificate  he  has  advocated,  encouraged,  and  blessed  it 
in  no  less  than  eight  successive  briefs  or  rescripts. 

We  have  even  higher  advocacy  and  approval.  Our  Blessed 
Lord,  desirous  to  see  estabhshed  this  beautiful  form  of 
devotion  to  His  Adorable  Heart,  has,  in  a  series  of  sacred 
promises,  declared  how  He  Himself  regards  it.  To  those 
who  practice  this  devotion,  He  promised  blessed  Margaret 
Mary  Alacoque  that  He  would  give  : — 

1.  The  graces  necessary  for  their  state. 

2.  Peace  in  their  families. 

3.  Comfort  in  all  their  trials. 

4.  Secure  refuge  in  life  and  death. 

5.  Abundant  blessings  on  all  their  undertakings. 

6.  That  sinners  should  find  His  Heart  an  ocean  of  mercy. 

7.  That  tepid  souls  should  become  fervent. 

8.  That  fervent  souls  should  advance  rapidly  towards 
perfection. 

9.  That  He  would  bless  every  dwelling  where  an  image 
of  His  Heart  should  be  exposed  and  honoured. 

10.  That  He  would  give  priests  a  peculiar  facility  for 
converting  hardened  sinners. 

11.  That  persons  spreading  this  devotion  should  have 
their  names  written  in  His  Sacred  Heart,  never  to  be 
effaced. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  stay  to  speak  on  the  authen- 
ticity of  these  promises.  In  two  ways,  the  Church  has 
implicitly  guaranteed  their  authenticity;  first,  in  beatifying 
Blessed  Margaret  Mary,  who  declared  that  our  divine 
Lord  made  these  promises ;   and   secondly,   in  approving 

1  See  I.  E.  Record,  Oct.,  1891. 


1004  The  Apostleship  of  Prayer. 

of  the  devotion  that  makes  these  promises  one  of  its 
promoting  factors.  And  to  these  two  may  be  added  the 
further  one,  that  they  are  spoken  and  taught,  not  in 
secret,  but  preached  and  pubHshed  off  the  house-tops ; 
and  that  the  Church,  so  sensitive  to  everything  tainted 
with  false  doctrine,  has  not  thought  it  necessary  to  quahfy 
or  condemn  them,  but  has  permitted  and  encouraged 
them.  Surely,  then,  for  persons  desirous  to  secure  their 
eternal  salvation,  here  is  at  hand  a  means  marvellous  ''in  its 
usefulness  and  in  its  simplicity,"  to  use  the  words  of 
Leo  XIII.,  when  Archbishop  of  Perugia. 

Two  questions  now^  come  to  the  front — how  may  a 
person,  individually,  become  a  member  of  it  ?  and  how  may 
a  priest,  anxious  to  establish  it  in  his  parish,  go  about  doing 
so  ?  The  first  question  is  easily  answered  ;  the  person  has 
but  to  find  where  the  Association  is  established — every 
Jesuit  Church  has  one  connected  with  it,  as  well  as  numbers 
of  convents  and  parishes — and  to  give  his  name  to  be  enrolled 
in  the  register.  There  are  three  degrees.  By  the  first  and 
simplest,  he  is  required,  besides  giving  his  name,  to  make 
the  Morning  offering.  By  the  second,  he  is  asked,  further- 
more, to  say  one  decade  of  the  Rosary  daily  for  the  Monthly 
Intention.  By  the  third,  he  binds  himself  to  a  monthly  or  a 
weekly  Holy  Communion  of  Reparation.  In  joining,  one 
may  become  a  member  only  of  the  first  degree,  if  he  wish  ; 
but  he  could  not  be  a  member  without  having  his  name  on 
the  register,  and  making  the  Morning  offering ;  and  on  his 
habitually  neglecting  to  make  the  Morning  offering  he  would 
cease  to  become  a  member ;  because  the  Morning  offering  is 
the  fundamental  devotion  underlying  all.  Therefore,  if  he 
wishes  to  be  a  member  at  all,  he  must  make  the  Morning  offer- 
ing ;  and  the  more  earnestly  and  devotedly  he  makes  it,  the 
truer  member  he  is,  the  more  fervent  [he  becomes  in  his 
own  soul,  the  more  dear  to  the  Sacred  Heart,  and  the  more 
powerful  for  obtaining  blessings  from  God  for  the  Association 
and  for  all  its  members.  This  will  be  seen  at  a  glance  by 
taking  a  case.  Supposing  that  one  of  the  things  to  be  prayed 
for  on  to-morrow  morning  is,  "  5,000  persons  out  of  employ- 
ment; "  plainly,  the  prayers  of  the  earnest  member  will  have 


The  Apofitleship  of  Prayer.  1005 

more  influence  before  the  throne  of  grace,  than  that  of  the 
tepid,  in  obtaining  employment  for  these  poor  men  and  their 
families,  and  thus  in  keepinoj  them  from  starvation,  and 
perhaps  other,  and  (it  may  be)  worse  evils. 

Besides  the  Monthly  Intention,  which  is  broad  and 
general,  and  which  is  usually  selected  by  the  Pope  himself, 
as,  for  instance,  the  Peace  of  Nations,  Catholicity  of  the  Press, 
Szc,  there  are  those  daily  and  local  and  personal  intentions, 
which  the  associates  ask  the  Central  Director  to  pray  for, 
and  which  he  thus  groups  together,  and  appoints  a  certain 
group  for  one  day  in  the  month,  another  for  another,  and  so  on. 
These  the  associates  find  printed  on  the  last  page  of  The 
Messenger,  or  on  what  is  called  The  General  Intention  Sheet. 
The  zealous  member  keeps  these  requests  before  his  eyes — 
reads  them  at  night  before  going  to  bed,  in  order  that  they 
may  be  in  his  mind  when  he  is  making  his  offering  in  the 
morning ;  puts  himself  into  the  place  of  those  who  have  made 
these  requests,  who  have  sent  up  these  cries  from  (in  all 
likelihood)  bleeding  hearts ;  and  thus  he  excites  his  devotion, 
and  prays  and  works  more  earnestly  and  more  fruitfully. 

It  is  written  :  "  And  behold  a  certain  lawyer  stood  up, 
tempting  Him  .  .  .  and,  willing  to  justify  himself,  said  to 
Jesus,  Who  is  my  neighbour?"  Upon  this  our  Blessed 
Lord  told  the  beautiful  parable  of  the  Good  Samaritan,  who, 
seeing  the  sick  man,  "  was  moved  with  compassion,  and 
going  up  to  him,  bound  up  his  wounds,  pouring  in  oil  and 
wine."  This  is  what  the  fervent  member  of  the  Holy 
League  does  every  morning  when  praying  for  his  neighbour 
who  "hath  fallen  among  robbers."  We  know  with  what 
imphed  eulogy  our  Lord  narrates  that  touching  parable, 
and  with  what  admonition  He  says  to  every  generation  and 
to  every  man  :  "  Go  thou,  and  do  likewise."  And  in  this  our 
day  He  has  gone  farther,  for  He  has  particularized  the  bless- 
ings He  is  prepared  to  give  to  those  who  will  do  so  :  "1  will 
give  them  the  graces  necessary  for  their  state.  I  will  give 
them  peace  in  their  families.  I  will  be  their  secure  refuge 
in  life  and  death.  I  will  give  them  comfort  in  all  their 
trials,  and  bestow  abundant  blessings  on  all  their  under- 
takings." 


1006  The  Apostleship  of  Prayer. 

From  the  individual  it  is  but  a  step  to  the  parish.  A 
parish  of  such  souls  is  a  picture  that  the  mind  loves  to  con- 
template ;  the  fleece  of  Gideon,  anew,  wet  with  the  dews  of 
heaven  on  the  thrashing-floor  '*  under  an  oak  that  was  in 
Ephra  ;  " — "  as  the  smell  of  a  plentiful  field  which  the  Lord 
hath  blessed  " — so  would  such  a  parish  be. 

Article  VII.  of  the  Statutes  says  : — 

"  The  General  Director  may,  in  different  countries  and  dioceses, 
appoint  Central  Directors,  with  the  consent  of  the  respective 
Ordinary,  whose  jurisdiction,  moreover,  must  always  be  scrupu- 
lously respected,  both  with  regard  to  centres  established  or  to  be 
established,  or  with  regard  to  the  faithful  of  his  diocese,  already 
enrolled  or  to  be  enrolled,  according  to  the  holy  canons  and 
apostolic  constitutions." 

This  directs  how  to  act  in  the  case  of  a  parish.  The 
first  thing  to  be  obtained  is  the  consent  of  the  Ordinary.  In 
this  matter,  it  will  not  be  difficult  to  obtain  it.  Nothing 
can  be  more  welcome  to  those  '*  who  are  set  over  us,  so  as 
to  give  an  account  of  us,"  than  to  learn  that  we  are  desirous 
to  live  fervent  Catholic  lives,  which  is  testified  by  our  inten- 
tion of  joining  the  League  of  the  Sacred  Heart.  That 
consent  being  obtained,  the  next  step  is  to  notify  the  same 
to  the  Central  Director  in  Dubhn. 

This  is  the  most  convenient  place  to  describe  the  internal 
government  of  the  Association. 

The  General  Director,  who  has  supreme  authority  over  the 
Association  throughout  the  whole  world,  lives  in  France.  He 
appoints,  in  every  country,  zealous  clergymen  who  have  a 
deep  interest  in  the  Association,  and  a  great  desire  to 
advance  it,  and  who  are  called  Central  Directors — one  for 
every  country,  one  for  England,  one  for  Ireland,  &c.  These 
Central  Directors  have  the  power  of  appointing,  with  the 
sanction  of  the  Ordinary,  as  determined  by  the  statutes. 
Local  Directors,  whose  jurisdiction  is  generally  conterminous 
with  the  parishes. 

The  Local  Director,  having  obtained  his  diploma,  pro- 
ceeds to  organize  in  whatever  way  he,  in  his  judgment, 
considers  best.  Possibly,  the  best  way  would  be,  to  explain, 
in  one  or  two  lectures,  the  advantages  of  the  Association, 
and  then  invite  members  to  join. 


The  Apostleship  of  Prayer.  1007 

As  in  all  things,  so  in  this,  our  Lord  seems  greatly  to 
desire  the  assistance  of  priests.  In  order  to  induce  them 
to  give  their  aid.  He  promises  things  which  usually  He 
bestows  only  on  saints.  '*  I  will  give  priests  a  peculiar 
facility  for  converting  hardened  sinners."  And,  best  of  all, 
''Persons  spreading  this  devotion,  I  will  have  their  names 
toritten  in  My  Sacred  Heart,  never  to  he  effaced^  The 
worth  of  this  promise  may  be  judged  from  what  our  Lord, 
in  the  Gospel,  says  to  the  seventy-two  disciples  on  their 
return  to  Him.  "  And  they  coming  together  unto  Jesus, 
related  unto  Him  all  things  that  they  had  done  and  taught." 
His  answer  was,  not  to  glory  in  the  wonderful  miracles  they 
had  wrought,  or  in  the  numbers  that  they  had  converted ; 
but  to  rejoice  in  this,  that  their  names  were  loritten  in  the  book 
of  life. 

From  the  number  enrolled,  or  from  those  who  have 
helped  to  spread  the  devotion,  the  Local  Director  will  choose 
persons  of  earnestness,  of  steadiness,  and  of  zeal ;  and  on 
these  the  gj  eat  success  of  the  work  will  depend.  "  The 
promoters  hold  their  meetings  once  a  month,"  says  the  little 
handbook  oi  the  Holy  League ;  "  and  on  these  meetings  the 
spread  of  the  Association,  the  success  of  all  its  works,  the 
fervour  of  it?  members,  &c.,  mainly  depend." 

Every  member,  at  joining,  gets  a  certificate  of  admission. 
Blank  forms  are  supplied  from  the  office  of  the  Central 
Director.^  Ftomoters  also  get  diplomas.  They  are  received 
with  certain  ceremonies,  all  of  which  may  be  found  by  con- 
sulting the  handbook. 

Thus  it  appears  how  very  simple  in  its  construction,  and 
how  very  seli-acting  it  is.  In  the  parish,  the  Local  Director 
works  through  the  Promoters,  and  they  act  on  the  members. 
And  what  is  ^t  not  capable  of  effecting  in  a  parish?  Whether 
a  work  be  one  duly  subordinated  to  it,  or  a  religious  move- 
ment which,  at  first  sight,  seems  quite  foreign  and  even 
alien,  it  readily  unites  and  assimilates  with  all ;  for  all  things 
that  are  holy  are  dear  to  the  Heart  of  Jesus.  If  it  be  the 
Propagation  of  the  faith,  it  gathers  it  under  its  wings,  as  a 

1  In  Irelanc    the  office  is  at  No.  5,  Great  Denmark-street,  Dublin. 


1008  The  Apostleship  of  Prayer, 

hen  gathereth  her  chickens ;  if  it  be  devotion  to  the  Holy 
Souls,  it  as  readily  assists  it.  If  it  be  temporal  or  moral 
virtues,  such  as  the  promotion  of  family  peace,  the  blessings 
of  domestic  cleanliness  among  the  poor,  or  the  great  advan- 
tage of  temperance,  nothing  comes  amiss  to  it;  it  is  there, 
not  alone  present,  but  the  "brightness  of  God  shining  all 
round,  and  with  it  a  multitude  of  the  heavenly  host  praising 
God,  and  saying,  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  peace  on 
earth  to  men  of  goodwill." 

It  is  hardly  possible  to  calculate  all  the  good  work  it  may 
do  in  a  parish.  By  its  beautiful  tender  devotion  to  the 
Sacred  Heart,  it  brings  souls  to  our  Lord  in  the  Holy 
Communion,  thus  inducing  a  more  frequent  reception  of  the 
holy  Sacraments  of  Penance  and  the  Blessed  Eucharist. 
Children  take  immediately  to  it ;  and  no  one  need  be  told 
what  is  the  advantage  of  binding  the  child  to  the  altar  and 
the  Church.  The  growing-up  young  men,  and  the  brave 
heart  in  the  strong  man's  breast,  yield  with  childlike  softness 
to  its  pleadings.  "  His  locks  are  wet  with  the  dews  of  the 
night."  There  is  something  sublimely  pathetic  in  seeing 
the  power  of  religion  exercised  on  the  strong  and  the  robust. 
God's  eye  may  see  many  a  Nathanael  praying  beneath  the 
fig-tree,  when  our  eyes  cannot.  What  more  rugged  or 
unpromising  than  the  fishermen  that  cast  their  nets  in  an 
Eastern  sea?  Yet  that  same  Sacred  Heart  said  to  them 
but  once,  "  Follow  Me  !  And  leaving  their  nets  they  followed 
Him." 

Overlooking  many,  there  is  one  devotion  so  peculiarly 
the  devotion  of  the  Sacred  Heart,  and  called  into  existence 
and  all  but  universal  observance  by  it,  that  it  cannot  be 
passed  unmentioned — the  devotion  of  the  first  Friday  of 
every  month,  and  the  consequent  devotion  of  the  Nine 
Fridays.  The  devotion  of  the  first  Friday  has  gained 
already  suCh  a  hold  on  the  piety  of  the  people,  that  were  we 
by  any  chance  restored  to  the  ages  of  faith,  it  is  likely  that 
it  would  have  been  postulated  for  as  a  holiday.  With  the 
exception  of  Christmas  Day  and  some  feasts  of  our  Blessed 
Lady,  there  is  scarcely  any  other  on  which  the  faithful  feel 
such   an   abundance   of  love   and   outpouring  of  the  Holy 


The  Aposileship  of  Prayer.  lOOD 

Ghost,  the  Comforter,  as  on  the  first  Friday.  Scarcely 
anything  seems  so  hard  to  be  borne  by  those  who  are  in 
the  habit  of  going  to  Holy  Communion  on  the  first  Friday, 
as  being  disappointed  on  that  day.  The  nine  Fridays  natu- 
rally follow  from  this.  But  then  there  is  that  extraordinary 
promise  of  our  Blessed  Lord — exceptional,  indeed,  in  the 
whole  history  of  the  Christian  Church — with  regard]  to 
the  nine  Fridays.  It  has  not  been  recorded  that  any  promise 
like  the  following  was  ever  made  : — 

"  I  promise  thee,  in  the  excess  of  the  mercy  of  My  Heart,  that 
its  all-powerful  love  will  grant  to  all  those  who  receive  commu- 
nion on  the  first  Friday  of  the  month  for  nine  consecutive  months, 
the  grace  of  final  repentance  ;  and  that  they  shall  not  die  under 
My  displeasure,  nor  without  receiving  the  sacraments  ;  and  that 
My  heart  shall  be  their  secure  refuge  at  that  last  hour." 

It  is  no  wonder  that  there  was  a  great  outcry  against  this 
promise  when  it  was  fiirst  made  public.  All  the  teachings  of 
mystic  theology  were  against  it,  or  seemed  to  be  so.  Final 
perseverance  was  not  to  be  merited,  but  to  be  obtained  by 
humble  and  constant  prayer.  Churchmen,  with  their  habit 
of  caution,  looked  suspicious.  It  was  new  ;  it  was  startling ; 
it  was  previously  unheard-of :  but  the  love  and  the  mercy  of 
the  Sacred  Heart  have  no  bounds.  To-day,  thank  God, 
under  the  sanction  of  Holy  Church,  it  is  preached  everywhere; 
in  onmem  terram  exivit  sonus  ejus. 

The  devotion  of  the  first  Friday,  and  the  devotion  of  the 
nine  Fridays,  seem  to  culminate  in  ''  that  day  which  the 
Lord  hath  made,"  the  first  Friday  after  the  Octave  of  Corpus 
Christi,  the  feast  of  the  Sacred  Heart.  Let  us  recall  its 
institution  as  told  in  the  delightful  pages  of  Pere  Charles 
Daniel,  de  la  Compagnie  de  Jesus  : — 

"In  the  little  chapel  of  the  Visitation  [at  Paray-le-Monial] 
Father  de  la  Colombiere  was  celebrating  the  holy  mysteries  with 
more  than  his  usual  fervour  and  devotion.  About  the  time  of 
Holy  Communion,  when  blessed  Margaret  Mary  was  going  to 
approach  the  altar,  she  saw  two  hearts,  the  priest's  and  her  own, 
immersed  in  the  Sacred  Heart  of  Jesus,  as  if  they  were  spots  in 
a  great  furnace ;  and  she  heard  a  voice,  saying  :  'It  is  thus  that 
My  pure  love  unites  three  hearts  for  ever.'  " 

At  the  same  time  she  understood  that  this  union  was 
VOL.  XII.  3  S 


iOlO  The  ApostlesUp  of  Prayer. 

^11  for  the  glory  of  the  Sacred  Heart,  and  that  she  was  to 
inform  the  holy  priest  of  its  treasures,  in  order  that  he  might 
justly  appreciate  it,  and  value  the  spiritual  gifts  that  were 
to  be  shared  between  them.  .  .  .  What  was  not  the 
astonishment  of  Father  de  la  Colombiere  to  find  liimself 
chosen  by  our  divine  Saviour  to  aid  in  obtaining  glory  for 
the  Sacred  Heart.  He  was  so  confounded,  when  she  told 
him,  and  expressed  himself  in  terms  of  such  humiliation, 
that  the  holy  nun  says  she  was  more  edified  by  what  she  saw 
and  heard  than  by  the  most  eloquent  and  the  most  pious 
discourses  of  this  true  servant  of  God. 

"To  add  a  new  feast  to  the  feasts  of  the  Church !  this 
frightened  her.  But  to  add  one  more  to  that  which  had  been 
added  in  the  thirteenth  century  in  honour  of  the  adorable  Body 
and  Blood  of  our  Lord  ;  to  the  joy  and  exultation  of  the  Lauda 
Sion,  to  add  penance  and  reparation — this  was  the  thought 
ever  uppermost  in  her  mind.  Long  time  had  she  nursed  it,  but 
never  would  she  have  ventured  to  breathe  it  across  her  lips  but 
for  the  express  command  of  our  divine  Lord.  While  she  lay 
prostrate  before  the  altar,  and  while  she  was  revolving  what 
could  she  do  to  make  the  Sacred  Heart  better  known  and  loved, 
she  heard  a  voice,  saying  :  '  You  shall  never  do  better  than  what  I 
have  so  often  asked  of  you ;'  and  then  :  *  Behold  this  Heart  that 
has  loved  men  so  much,  that  it  has  not  even  stopped  at  consuming 
and  annihilating  itself  to  testify  its  love  for  men  ;  and  from  the 
most  of  them  I  receive  nothing  but  ingratitude  ;  for  they  do  not 
cease  to  offend  Me  by  their  irreverences  and  by  their  sacrileges, 
as  well  as  by  the  coldness  and  the  contempt  which  they  show  to 
Me  in  this  sacrament  of  love.  But  what  is  still  more  painful  is, 
that  there  are  hearts  even  consecrated  to  Me,  who  do  this.  It  is 
for  this  reason  that  I  ask  of  you  to  obtain  that  the  first  Friday 
after  the  octave  of  the  holy  sacrament  be  dedicated  by  particular 
devotion  to  the  honour  of  My  Heart,  that  the  faithful  receive  Holy 
Communion  on  that  day,  and  by  a  loving  reparation  to  My  Sacred 
Heart  that  they  make  amends  for  all  the  indignities  it  receives 
while  exposed  for  the  adoration  of  men.  And  I  promise  you 
that  My  divine  Heart  loill  shed  in  abundance  the  sacred 
influence  of  its  love  on  all  luho  pay  it  this  honour,  a7id  ivho  loill 
procure  it  to  be  paid.'  ■  When  she  related  all  this  to  Father 
de  la  Colombiere,  he  did  not  hesitate  for  a  moment.  Too  happy 
to  be  the  first  disciple  of  the  Sacred  Heart  of  Jesus,  he  made  an 
entire  sacrifice  of  himself,  and  on  the  next  day  he  engaged  by  vow 
to  devote  the  remainder  of  his  life  to  the  service  of  the  Sacred 
Heart.  That  was  the  first  Friday  after  the  Octave  of  Corpus 
Christi,  June  21,  1675." 


Hiimouring  the  Vatican  in  tJie  Sixteenth  Century.     1011 

In  the  year  1705  Clement  XIII.,  to  the  great  joy  of  the 
Christian  world,  solemnly  approved  of  the  devotion  to  the 
Sacred  Heart ;  and  in  1878,  Pope  Pius  IX.  of  blessed  memory, 
writing  to  the  Irish  bishops,  cried  :  "  May  the  Sacred  Heart 
of  Jesus  inflame  your  hearts  !     Amen." 

J.  A.  CULLEN,  S.J. 


HUMOUKING  THE  VATICAN  IN  THE  SIXTEENTH 

CENTUEY. 

"Dans  la  sphere  sereine  de  la  science,  lorsque  le  temps  a  calme 
les  passions  pourquoi  ne  pas  avouer  des  torts  qui  ne  sont  plus 
que  des  faits  historiques  ?" — (Pieeling,  Fapes  et  Tsars,  avant 
propos,  page  1.) 

SCHLITTE  !  Who  or  what  was  Schlitte?  Eeaders  of 
the  Bomans  Nationaux  of  Erckmann-Chatrian  will  find 
somewhere  in  Madame  Therese  much  anxiety  about  a 
schlitte ;  but  our  Schlitte  is  not  a  thing,  but  a  man.  Schlitte 
was  the  man  who  humoured  the  Vatican  in  the  sixteenth 
century  ;  to  whose  character  we  hope,  before  we  finish  this 
article,  to  do  full  justice.  We  do  not  know  if  Schlitte  was 
the  great  prototype  of  more  recent  adventurers,  but  he  was 
unique.  His  interesting  career  will  now  be,  for  the  first 
time,  unfolded  to  English  readers,  as  a  warning  to  all  his 
followers  who  feel  inclined  to  play  tricks  with  the  Catholic 
Church,  and  to  humour  the  Vicar  of  Christ,  that  the  time 
comes  when  they  will  be  duly  gibbeted. 

To  grasp  clearly  the  position  of  affairs  in  Europe  at  the 
time  of  which  we  speak,  we  must  take  a  retrospective  glance 
at  the  general  drift  of  European  politics.  First  of  all  the 
religious  question  was  of  supreme  importance.  The  East 
was  separated  from  the  West  by  what  was  prima  facie  a 
schism,  but  at  bottom  a  heresy.  Greek  and  Latin  were  in 
hostile  camps.  The  estrangement  was  fatal.  The  Greeks 
saw  a  sinister  sign  on  their  eastern  horizon.  The  Turk  was 
coming,  and  now  the  hour  of  Byzantium  had  come.     While 


1012    Humouring  the  Vatican  in  the  Sixteenth  Century. 

the  West  was  holding  its  great  Councils  of  Lyons  and  Flor^ 
ence,  Islam  was  sharpening  its  sword  beyond  the  Bosphorus 
and  casting  its  eye  toward  Constantinople.  On  one  side  the 
Turk,  on  another  Charles  of  Anjou,  King  of  Sicily ;  while  the 
Ex-Emperor  Baldwin  II.  menaced  them  from  another  point. 
The  Greeks  were  in  straits.  Whither  should  they  turn  for 
help  but  to  the  Vatican?  The  Greeks  were  isolated  in 
religion,  and  the  enemy  was  knocking  at  the  gates.  What 
was  to  be  done?  Michael  Paleologus  sent  to  implore  the 
help  of  the  Latins,  and  the  Pope  immediately  moved  in  the 
direction  of  religious  unity ;  join  Latin  and  Greek  in  the 
Church,  and  let  them  draw  the  sword  together  against  the 
common  enemy,  Islam.  In  1274  Gregory  convoked  the 
Council  of  Lyons — the  questions  between  East  and  West  were 
discussed — on  the  6th  of  July.  East  and  West  were  united; 
the  Greeks  swearing  loyalty  to  the  Pope  in  recognising  Papal 
supremacy.  The  union,  such  as  it  was,  lasted  a  very  short 
time.  When  Michael  Paleologus  died  the  rupture  was  the 
same  as  had  prevailed  from  Photius  to  the  Council  of  Lyons. 
The  Turk  was  growing  more  powerful  day  by  day,  and 
the  Greeks  were  asking  for  men  and  money.  Once  more  the 
emperors  of  Byzantine  are  thrown  into  the  arms  of  the 
Pope.  Islamism  was  rampant ;  the  Greek  Empire  trembling  ; 
nothing  could  save  New  Kome  but  the  West ;  and  the  Pope 
was  the  West.  We  are  now  in  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth 
century.  The  Emperor,  John  Paleologus  stretches  his  hands 
to  Kome,  to  implore  help  before  the  eastern  rampart  of 
Christianity  would  be  blotted  out  in  Christian  blood,  under 
the  ever-increasing  tide  of  Mohammedanism.  Terms  of 
union  between  East  and  West  were  again  proposed :  a 
Council  was  hastily  summoned — first  at  Ferrara,  then  at 
Florence.  Bessarion  (the  sight  of  whose  Koman  purple,  as 
cardinal,  on  his  return  home,  so  nearly  cost  him  his  life),  a 
theologian,  an  orator,  and  a  patriot ;  and  Isidore  of  Kief,  a 
man  of  boundless  energy,  of  solid  judgment,  one  of  those  noble 
men  whose  wisdom  comes  from  afar,  represented  the  Greeks, 
At  length  Eugene  IV.,  1439,  published  the  Decree  of  Union, 
and  appealed  to  all  Christian  princes  to  fly  to  the  rescue  of 
the  Catholic  Church  in  the  East.     Nicholas  V.  did  the  same. 


Humouring  the  Vatican  in  the  Sixteenth  Century.     1013 

It  was  too  late.  The  Crescent  triumphed  ;  Constantine  was 
defeated,  and  Constantinople  became  the  head-quarters  of  the 
Turks.  From  that  day  to  this  the  Asiatic  barbarian  has 
held  on  to  the  Golden  Horn,  and  blighted  by  his  presence 
one  of  the  fairest  spots  of  Europe. 

The  Turks  now  became  a  danger  to  Europe.  The  Greek 
emperors  and  Constantinople  were  gone.  The  Dukes  of 
Moscow — later  on,  the  Tsars  of  Kussia — remained.  The 
Pope  turned  to  Moscow  for  help  against  the  Turks,  and  his 
object  was  this :  On  the  disappearance  of  Constantinople 
with  its  patriarchate  as  a  Christian  city,  the  centre  of  Eastern 
influence  was  being  rapidly  transferred.  Under  Moslem 
power  the  Patriarch  of  Constantinople  became  a  skeleton, 
and  the  Eussians  asked  themselves,  "  How  shall  we  obey  a 
patriarch  in  the  hands  of  the  Moslems?"  Constantinople 
was  second  Kome ;  Moscow  was  to  be  third  Eome.  Keeping 
in  touch  with  Moscow  was  the  only  way  to  secure  large 
armies  against  the  Turk,  and  to  prepare  the  way  for  another 
attempt  to  unite  the  East  and  West.  Eome  had  not  much  to 
give  Moscow.  True,  the  Pope  could  make  the  Duke  of 
Moscow  Tsar  (Csesar)  of  the  North — send  him  a  royal  crown, 
confer  high-sounding  titles  which  would  please  the  Kremlin, 
and,  above  all,  he  could  intervene  with  the  Poles,  in  a  sense 
favourable  to  Eussia. 

In  those  days,  during  the  sixteenth  century,  when  Schlitte 
makes  his  appearance,  Poland  was  mighty.  She  stood  there 
in  the  very  heart  of  Europe,  a  bulwark  of  Christianity ,  when 
the  Greek  empire  had  gone,  when  Germany  and  England 
were  simply  rotting  and  festering  in  heresy,  and  when  the 
Turk  was  still  threatening,  not  Greek — for  practical  purpose 
it  had  disappeared — but  Latin  Christianity.  She  was  a  great 
Slavonic  power,  and  from  the  earliest  days  of  the  Moscow 
Dukedom,  when  it  began  to  assimilate  the  surrounding 
princedoms,  such  as  Suzdal  and  Novogorod,  she  saw  that  the 
Tsar  of  the  North  was  to  be  the  great  rival  power  which  would 
eventually  cross  swords  with  her,  and  unite,  if  possible,  under 
one  crown  the  great  Slav  race.  Would  Poland  conquer,  and 
assert  that  the  crown  of  the  Jagellons  be  the  symbol  of  the 
Mid-European  unity  of  the  Slavs,  or  would  the  candlestick 


1014    Humouring  the  Vatican  in  the  Sixteenth  Century. 

be  removed  to  Moscow?  In  addition,  during  the  great 
Mongolian  invasion  across  the  Ural  chain,  the  Poles  took 
Livonia,  a  province  over  which  the  Kussians  claimed 
•suzerainty.  Hence  mistrust,  suspicion,  hatred,  thinly  dis- 
guised under  the  most  formal  diplomatic  reserve. 

Eome  now  comes  on  the  scene,  and  diplomatic  overtures 
were  made  to  Eussia  to  rally  against  the  Turk,  and  to  reunite 
East  and  West.  It  was  not  the  first  time  that  there  were 
cordial  relations  between  the  Vatican  and  the  Kremlin. 
Through  the  instrumentality  of  the  Vatican,  Zoe  Paleologa, 
daughter  of  the  last  Emperor  of  Byzantium,  a  Catholic  princess, 
was  married  to  Ivan  III.  An  Italian  from  Vicenza,  Gian 
Battista  della  Volpe,  represented  Ivan  (the  marriage  was  in 
Home  by  proxy) ,  and  escorted  the  fair  bride  through  Italy  to 
Moscow  with  all  that  courtesy  and  delicate  finesse  which  the 
grandeur  of  the  occasion  evoked  in  the  soul  of  the  chivalrous 
Italian.  Embassies  came  and  went  from  Rome  to  Moscow 
and  from  Moscow  to  Rome,  but  always  with  the  same  result. 
The  Tsar  and  the  Turk  were  friends,  and  Russia  was  not  in 
danger.  Hungary  was  the  objective  of  Soliman.  During  all 
these  comings  and  goings  between  the  Popes  and  Tsars, 
Poland  was  profoundly  moved  lest  something  prejudicial  to 
her  interests  should  be  determined  on.  Thus,  in  the  middle 
of  the  sixteenth  century  there  was  in  the  diplomatic  world 
a  triangular  duel  between  the  Pope  and  the  Tsar  and  the  King 
of  Poland.  At  this  point  Schlitte  appeared.  From  what  we 
have  said,  it  will  be  easy  to  infer  what  were  the  ideas  and 
aims  of  the  various  courts  concerned.  Moscow  aimed  at 
being  free  from  Rome  religiously,  but  desired  to  take  advan- 
tage of  western  civilization,  which  in  all  the  arts,  both  useful 
and  ornamental,  found  their  focus  in  Rome  and  their  sphere 
of  influence  in  the  western  nations.  Rome  and  the  western 
nations  saw  more  and  more  clearly  the  necessity  of  having 
religious  unity  to  combat  impending  dangers.  Moscow 
preferred  autonomy  in  religion — independence  from  the 
Pope  :  two  sets  of  ideas  prevailed  in  the  East  and  in  the  West, 
and  Hans  Schlitte  knew  how  to  utilize  both. 

A  native  of  Goslar,  an  old  town  in  the  district  of  Lieben- 
bourg,  province  of  Hanover,  Schlitte  seeks  his  fortune  among 


Humouring  the  Vatican  in  the  Sixteenth  Century.     1015 

the  Russians.  He  was  a  man  of  active  mind,  and  spoke 
Eussian  well — a  rare  acquirement  in  those  days.  He  turns  up 
at  Moscow  full  of  Moscovian  ideas,  gets  introduced  to  the  Tsar 
Ivan  IV.,  and  begins  his  interesting  career.  He  is  a  Greek 
out  and  out  at  Moscow,  though  a  Catholic  generally  outside 
the  Russian  frontier  :  geographical  Christianity  was  obviously 
a  strong  point  with  him.  He  could  feel  equally  at  home  in 
the  Kremlin  and  at  the  Vatican.  The  Tsar  gave  him  a 
commission  to  go  to  Germany,  and  recruit  among  the 
Germans  an  efficient  body  of  men  to  teach  the  Russians 
sciences,  arts,  and  crafts.  He  was  granted  letters  patent  to 
that  effect,  and  turned  his  face  westward,  in  April,  1547. 
The  Russians  wanted  men  of  this  class  and  none  other.  But 
a  mere  commission  to  recruit  teachers  of  manual  sciences 
would  not  be  very  imposing  in  the  eyes  of  the  Western 
Catholics,  to  whom  a  union  of  Churches  was  the  only  point 
of  importance,  both  on  its  own  account,  and  as  a  preliminary 
to  an  anti-Islamic  league.  Schlitte  presents  himself  to 
Charles  V.  of  Germany,  whose  dream  was  a  great  Catholic 
league.  Charles  V.  had  reason  to  see  its  importance,  owing 
to  the  pressing  troubles  which  Protestantism  caused  in 
Germany.  In  1548,  having  been  triumphant  over  all  Protes- 
tant opposition,  he  was  particularly  disposed  in  that  direction. 
Under  such  circumstances  Schlitte  makes  his  appearance 
at  the  Diet  of  Augsbourg,  and  announces  himself  at  the 
German  Court  as  the  Bussian  Ambassador.  He  fills  the  brain 
of  Charles  V.  with  wonderful  tales  of  Ivan  IV' s.  disposition 
towards  the  union  of  the  Latin  and  Greek  Churches  ;  how  he 
is  desirous  of  following  in  the  steps  of  the  late  Tsar,  his 
father  Vasili,  and  of  submitting  directly  to  the  Latin  Church. 
Charles  V.  was  fired  by  this  information,  and  readily  accorded 
to  Schlitte  an  instrument  conferring  full  power  on  him  to 
gather  all  the  learned  men  he  could  find,  and  would  want  to 
take  to  Moscow.  Charles  also  gives  him  a  letter  to  the  Tsar, 
praising  the  latter  for  his  efforts  towards  a  high  civilization, 
&c.,  but  never  mentions  a  word  about  the  union  of  the 
Churches.  The  result  of  Schlitte's  enterprise  was  a  mixed 
gathering  of  one  hundred  and  twenty-three  luminaries,  who 
started  out  from  their  homes,  true  knight-errants  of  learning, 


1016    Humouring  the  Vatican  in  the  Sixteenth  Century. 

bent  on  making  their  lights  shine  across  the  wastes  of 
Scythia.  Among  the  gathering  are  four  theologians— of 
what  prowess  we  know  not.  The  Tsar  never  asked  for 
theologians — no  mention  of  them  in  the  letters  patent  con- 
taining Schhtte's  commission,  to  which  Schlitte  appealed — 
no  mention  of  them  in  Charles  V.'s  eulogistic  letter  to  the 
Tsar.  But  their  presence  is  readily  explained.  Schlitte 
had  a  game  to  play,  and  he  was  playing  it.  The  four 
theologians  were  obviously  necessary  to  give  colour,  not  to 
the  contents  of  the  letters  patent — but  to  the  wonderful 
prospect  of  the  union  of  East  and  West,  about  which  Schlitte 
had  so  much  to  say.  The  long  train  of  western  brains 
trending  towards  Moscow,  headed  by  Schlitte,  with  the 
four  theologians  in  front,  was  a  touching  sight.  But 
our  best  plans — such  are  the  limitations  of  human  genius — 
sometimes  go  askew,  and  Schlitte  was  no  exception.  Even 
the  theologians  were  unable  to  secure  that  immunity  which 
bards  and  minstrels  of  better  days  were  able  to  enjoy.  The 
contingent  of  learned  men  infringed  on  the  Livonian  frontier ; 
and  the  Poles,  respecting  neither  the  pacific  character  of 
a  body  of  men  whose  sole  avocation  was  to  spread  the 
light  and  extend  the  frontier  of  the  realm  of  thought,  nor  the 
passport  of  their  leader,  cast  him  into  prison  at  Liibeck, 
where  for  two  years  he  had  time  to  think  of  the  ingratitude 
of  a  generation  which  was  wont  to  imprison  its  best  bene- 
factors, and  how  he  was  to  extricate  himself  from  the  Polish 
dungeon.  When  he  came  forth  and  looked  around,  lo  !  the 
splendid  galaxy  of  talent,  which  had  set  out  with  such  high 
hopes,  had  vanished,  and  Schlitte  found  himself  once  more 
^'  on  the  bleak  shore  alone."  Whither  his  staff  of  professors 
went,  we  know  net.  Escaped  from  prison,  by  miracle,  he 
assures  us,  and  being  pursued  by  the  Poles,  he  is  saved  by  a 
special  intervention  of  Providence,  as  he  again  assures  us. 
Without  a  penny  in  his  pocket,  or  anything  available  for  his 
daily  wants  but  his  ingenuity,  he  once  more  sets  out  to  play 
off  the  East  against  the  West.  His  first  move  was  to  create 
a  chancellor.  John  Steinberg  was  an  Austrian  gentleman, 
whose  purse  was  much  heavier  than  his  head.  Schhtte 
wanted  money;  Steinberg,  something  to  do,     Perhaps  the 


Humouring  the  Vatican  in  the  Sixteenth  Century.    1017 

latter  had  lurking  ambition  to  be  something  important,  and 
wished  to  turn  a  position  of  imposing  grandeur  to  account. 
So  Schlitte,  fresh  from  jail,  by  a  special  instrument  confers 
a  hitherto  unheard-of  dignity  on  Steinberg,  who  forthwith 
becomes  the  *'  Latin  and  German  Chancellor"  and  Plenipo- 
tentiary delegate  of  the  Tsar  to  treat  of  all  Kussian  affairs, 
but  above  all  to  negotiate  the  union  of  the  Latin  and  Greek 
Churches  between  the  Emperor  and  the  Pope.  Schlitte 
plans  the  mo\oments  of  his  chancellor.  Steinberg  is  com- 
missioned to  go  to  Kome,  and  get  a  brief  of  union,  "  sub 
annulo  Piscat*)ris,"  return  with  it  to  Breslau,  where  a  pass- 
port to  Moscow  will  be  ready  for  him.  Then  he  can  go  to 
Moscow,  where  he  can  for  ever  bask  in  the  sunshine  of  the 
Tsar's  favour,  and  have  his  cash  reimbursed.  Steinberg  was 
paying  his  own  expenses  in  this  transaction,  and  there  is 
very  little  doubt  that  the  soi-disant  ambassador  was 
enjoying  himself  very  comfortably  out  of  Steinberg's  purse 
as  well. 

This  happy  arrangement  shows  Schlitte's  versatility. 
He  broke  new  ground,  and  was  able  to  make  something 
solid,  tangibl«^,  and  practicable — to  wit,  cash — out  of  the 
very  airiest  speculations.  Less  ingenious  men  would  have 
contented  themselves  with  a  more  modest  enterprise,  and 
have  picked  up  an  agreeable  living  out  of  anti-camera 
intrigues ;  but  Schlitte  would  have  no  such  groveUing  base- 
ness— something  dashing  and  brilliant  for  the  intrepid 
Goslarian ;  something  that  would  strike  by  its  boldness,  and 
silence  wretched  cavillers  by  its  colossal  grandeur.  Of 
course,  he  krew  that  popes  had  laboured  in  vain  for  the 
same  object  ;  that  councils  had  been  held;  that  emperors 
had  been  wrecked  on  the  same  spot ;  that  cardinals  had 
retired  broken  hearted  from  discussing  history  and  canons 
of  ancient  councils  and  abstruse  questions  on  the  nature  of 
the  hypostas^  and  the  operations  ad  extra  et  ad  intra  ;  that 
bishops  prayed  and  laboured  ;  that  the  whole  ground  which 
separated  Eac^t  and  West  had  for  whole  generations  of  men 
been  trodden  as  hard  as  a  barracks-yard ;  but  he  was  not 
craven-hearttj.  He  still  held  that,  properly  exploited,  the 
great  (]^uestion  afforded  ample  material  for  further  enterprise. 


1018    Humouring  the  Vatican  in  the  Sixteenth  Century. 

That  all  it  required  was  a  man  of  talent  and  resource  to 
present  to  the  human  race  a  very  rare  spectacle.  Schlitte 
was  that  man;  and  notice,  that  so  far  he  proceeded  on 
orthodox  lines.  Heroes  have  their  poets ;  literary  men  their 
valets  ;  knights  their  squires  ;  and  why  should  not  Schlitte 
have  his  chancellor  ?  So  Steinberg  appears  in  all  his  w41d 
glory — created  by  Schlitte  by  a  very  formidable  document 
bearing  seals — not  Eussian  ones — but  the  seals  of  some 
obscure  Austrian  officials,  Weisberg  and  Kaugen — doubtless 
good  Catholics,  who  foresaw  in  Schlitte's  noble  enterprise  the 
first  step  toward  putting  heavy  Russian  battalions  on  the 
flanks  of  the  Turks. 

Now  we  have  arrived  at  a  certain  point.  Steinberg  and 
Schlitte  separate.  The  former  faces  Rome  ward,  while 
Schlitte  hovers  about  to  watch  results.  So  far  Schlitte  was 
not  compromised  with  the  Tsar,  in  whose  name  these 
remarkable  performances  wtu'e  being  done.  Schlitte's  scheme 
was  vague :  Steinberg  defines  it,  and  the  negotiations  in 
Rome  result  in  some  startling  developments.  We  can 
either  follow  Steinberg  to  Rome,  or  Schlitte.  Let  us  for 
the  present  follow  up  his  agent,  promising  to  finish  with 
Schlitte.  Steinberg  was  for  Schlitte  a  happy  selection.  He 
was  a  man  of  the  wildest  enthusiasm,  practical  in  details, 
not  given  to  abstract  observations  :  neither  dreamy  in  head 
nor  vapoury  in  speech.  He  was  well  known  in  Vienna,  and 
enjoyed  the  favour  of  the  Papal  Nuncio,  Pietro  Bertano, 
who  was  so  captivated  with  Steinberg's  enterprise,  and  so 
unsuspicious  about  the  Chancellor's  dignity  that  there  was 
no  time  for  anything  beyond  wishing  God-speed,  and  pre- 
paring the  Pope  for  Steinberg's  arrival.  Steinberg  was  now 
on  the  high  road  to  eminence  and  success.  That  he  was 
bond  fide,  is  plain  from  the  wonderful  enthusiasm  with 
which  he  begins  and  carries  through  his  operations.  He 
fires  the  imagination  of  Bertano,  who  writes  to  Rome 
a  glowing  account  of  the  plan  for  the  union  of  East 
and  West.  This  settles  Steinberg's  reception  in  Rome. 
Bertano's  influence  in  matters  Russian  was  unequalled, 
and  when  once  the  illustrious  Dominican  bishop  took 
sides    with     Steinberg,    the    success    of    the    chancellor's, 


Ilumouring  the  Vatican  in  the  Sixteenth  Century.    1019 

mission  to  Eome  was  certain,  as  far  as  limnan  plans  could 
make  it. 

To  strengthen  his  back  still  more,  and  to  make  the  scheme 
hang  well  together,  Schlitte  procured  letters  to  the  same 
purpose  from  Charles  V.  to  the  Pope.  Orders  were  sent 
to  the  emperor's  Imperial  Ambassador  at  Eome,  Diego 
Hurtado  de  Mendoza,  to  advise  him  on  the  matter  in  hand, 
and  to  facilitate  as  far  as  possible  the  success  of  Steinberg's 
mission.  Charles  V.  and  Bertano  informed  the  Pope  that 
the  Tsar  was  embarrassed  at  the  religious  differences  which 
prevailed  in  Poland,  where  the  Latin  and  Greek  rites  prevailed; 
and  he  was  therefore  obliged,  in  the  interests  of  religious 
unity,  the  desire  of  which  was  burning  out  his  soul,  to  speed  his 
'*  Latin  and  German  Chancellor"  to  Eome.  When  Steinberg 
arrived  in  Eome  he  was  the  most  important  man  there. 
Certain  ancient  plenipotentiaries  came  long  distances  to 
Eome,  and  carried  peace  or  war  in  the  folds  of  their 
Carthaginian  robes  ;  but  Schlitte's  chancellor  carried  the 
Eussian  Church,  the  success  of  the  Council  of  Trent,  the  fate 
of  Islam,  and  many  other  consequential  schemes  big  with  the 
destiny  of  the  future.  Eome  was  then  on  the  qui  vive.  The 
Eeformation  was  a  heavy  blow ;  and  at  that  moment  it  was 
in  full  swing.  St.  Ignatius  of  Loyola,  with  his  magnificent 
Jesuits,  were  on  the  breach.  St.  Peter's  barque  was  in  the 
midst  of  the  tempest  and  the  boiling  sea  ;  but  by  the  special 
providence  of  God  the  Jesuits  were  on  deck.  We  have  said 
by  the  providence  of  God,  for  if  ever  a  Deus  ex  machina 
sprang  up  in  the  hour  of  need,  when  the  knot  demanded  the 
power  of  a  God  to  unravel  it,  you  have  it  in  the  establishing  of 
the  Jesuit  Order  in  the  Abbey  Church  of  Montmartre,  1588. 

When  Steinberg  came  to  Eome,  the  idea  gained  ground 
that '  the  losses  should  be  made  good  elsewhere.  The 
Eussian  chancellor  turns  in  through  the  Porta  del  Popolo  at 
the  psychological  moment,  and  sits  down  to  business  with 
the  Eoman  diplomats.  Bertano  appears  later  on  in  the 
Eoman  purple.  The  idea  gained  ground  that  Eussia  was 
safe,  and  Steinberg  was  surrounded  by  a  mysterious  halo, 
nimbussed  in  the  eyes  of  the  diplomatic  world  of  Eome.  He 
formulated  his  plan,  and  counted  largely  on  the  credence  and 


1020    Humouring  the  Vatican  in  the  Sixteenth  Century. 

want  of  information  of  the  Kussian  Court.  Nothing  could  be 
simpler.  Moscow  was  throbbing  for  union— that,  of  course, 
came  from  Schlitte :  Kome  was  equally  anxious — that  came 
from  Bertano  ;  and  even  if  it  did  not  it  was  notorious. 
Steinberg  sketches  a  plan  of  adjustment  on  the  quid  pro  quo 
principle.  He  was  to  get  a  brief  of  union  as  a  certificate 
delivered  beforehand  to  the  Tsar  that  the  Tsar  and  the  Kussian 
Church  would  be  received  into  the  Catholic  Church  on  equit- 
able conditions.  This  was  clearly  a  remarkable  way  of  doing 
business  even  there ;  but  it  seems  not  to  have  created  any 
doubts  in  the  souls  of  the  Pope's  advisers.  They  were 
dealing  with  Schlitte's  chancellor,  to  whom  Schlitte  had 
given  confidentially  the  most  boundless  authority,  to  which 
the  powers  of  any  ordinary  diplomat  of  the  day  would  have 
been  narrow  and  cramped  and  frizzled  up  in  the  extreme.  A 
plenipotentiary  of  that  power  was  not  to  be  met  with  every 
day,  and  Kome  was  too  busy  making  the  most  of  her 
opportunity  to  attend  to  little  peculiarities  of  procedure 
which  were  relatively  of  no  importance. 

The  bogus  chancellor  also  wanted — {a)  a  royal  crown  for 
the  Tsar,  and  {b)  to  make  Moscow  a  Primatial  See ;  and  for 
this  there  was  a  vague  hint  of  an  anti-Islamic  league  and  a 
new  balance  of  power  in  Europe. 

This  scheme  in  itself  had  its  vraisemblance.  The  Tsar 
was  a  prince,  and  was  not  crowned.  The  Greek  Church 
wanted  an  archbishop  outside  the  influence  of  the  Turks. 
The  Tsar  and  the  Primate  of  Moscow  would  swear  before- 
hand to  labour  for  the  re-union  of  the  rank  and  file  of  the 
Kussian  people.  The  conversion  of  the  Kussians  would  not 
have  been  a  great  difficulty  if  Ivan  IV.  wanted  it ;  but  he 
neither  wanted  it  nor  the  crown,  which  formed  Schlitte's 
base-line  of  operations.  The  diplomatists,  however,  kept 
going  on,  not  with  lightning  rapidity,  but  in  the  fine 
old  traditional  way  of  the  Koman  Curia — slowly  and 
gently.  A  special  commission  was  at  length  appointed,  and 
the  commission  was  not  over  precipitous  in  its  action.  Five 
cardinals — Cervini,  Pacieco,  duPuy,Maffei,  andPighini — were 
appointed  to  take  charge  of  the  "  Latin  and  German 
Chancellor,"    whose  style    of  business  now  begins   to   be 


Humouring  the  Vatican  in  the  Sixteenth  Century.    1021 

more  remarkable  than  ever.  Steinberg  began  to  put  in  a 
condition  that  he  himself  should  be  appointed  Envoy  Extra- 
ordinary of  the  Pope  to  go  to  Moscow,  and  to  have  ratified 
by  Ivan  the  stipulations  entered  into  between  himself 
and  the  Papal  Court.  The  fact  was,  that  he  wanted 
to  play  his  own  game  out — a  game  well  known  in 
Italy — altalena — and  the  swing  was  to  be  from  Eome  to 
Moscow  and  from  Moscow  to  Kome.  We  do  not  accuse 
him  of  duplicity — far  from  it  :  but  he  was  wonderfully 
educated  by  Schlitte,  and  Schlitte's  education  put  his  pupil 
quite  on  a  level  with  the  keen'prelates  and  cardinals  who  were 
au  courant  with  the  progress  of  business  in  the  Eusso-Koman 
negotiation.     Thus  far  in  mysterious  secrecy. 

At  length  (1552),  by  order  of  the  Pope,  Cardinal  Maffei 
handed  over  copies  of  the  official  documents  which  Steinberg 
brought  with  him  to  Kome,  under  the  same  secrecy  which  had 
enveloped  the  proceedings  from  the  beginning,  to  Konarski. 
Konarski  was  the  Polish  ambassador  in  Kome,  and  a  Kusso- 
phobe.  Being  invited  to  dine  with  Cardinal  de  Medicis,  he 
was  asked  what  he  thought  of  the  Kussian  Question.  He 
replied  by  reading  some  pages  of  Herbertstein.  Unfortu- 
nately for  Steinberg,  Herbertstein  was  the  very  man  who  was 
to  accompany  the  chancellor  to  Moscow  for  the  ratification  of 
the  Koman  stipulations.  He  was  a  very  shrewd  Austrian 
diplomatist,  and  had  great  influence  in  all  Mid-European 
affairs  of  state.  Among  other  things  he  said  was  one  that 
ruined  Steinberg's  career.  He  said  that  Vasili  III.  of 
Moscow  hated  the  Pope  more  than  he  hated  any  other  man. 
Steinberg  built  his  great  diplomatic  structure  on  Vasili's 
benevolent  dispositions.  And  here  the  great  diplomatic 
bubble  was  pricked  by  the  very  man  whom  the  chancellor 
has  selected  as  his  great  colleague  in  the  journey  to  Moscow, 
and  the  signing,  sealing,  and  delivering  of  the  conditions  of 
union  between  East  and  West.  The  thrust  went  home. 
Steinberg  was  informed  that  his  mission  would  conclude  in 
three  days.  He  packed  his  baggage,  and  was  on  the  point 
of  starting,  when  two  cardinals  advised  him  to  hold  on. 
Cardinal  Maffei,  Protector  of  Poland,  died,  and  Steinberg, 
seeing  in   this   a  ray  of  hope,  held  on.     Once  more  the 


1022    Humouring  the  Vatican  in  the  Sixteenth  Centicrij. 

intrepid  Steinberg  is  on  the  back  stairs  of  the  Vatican,  and 
finds  his  way  to  the  Pope's  Confessor,  who  introduces  him 
to  Cardinal  de  Cuppis,  Archbishop  of  Trani  and  Dean  of  the 
Sacred  College.  Discredited  in  Eome,  repudiated  by  Charles 
v.,  who  had  patronized  him,  and  Bertano  being  now  dead, 
he  is  as  imperturbable  as  ever.  Despatch  after  despatch 
flows  from  his  prolific  pen  ;  he  writes  up,  not  only  his  own 
side  of  the  case,  but  does  the  answering  as  well,  and  litters 
his  cabinet  with  copious  instructions  to  be  furnished  to 
everybody  concerned — to  the  Papal  Ambassadors,  to  the 
Emperor  Charles,  to  the  King  of  Poland,  to  the  Eoman 
cardinals,  and  sketches  out,  with  his  daring  pen,  Papal 
letters  to  be  sent  by  the  Pope  to  the  Tsar  and  the  "  Arch- 
bishop of  Moscow."  Ultimately  Cardinal  de  Cuppis  died 
(December  10th,  1553),  and  the  Steinberg  fraud  was  so 
completely  shattered  that  quite  suddenly  the  "  German  and 
Latin  Chancellor  "  disappears  from  the  suburbs  of  the  Vatican ; 
and  disappears  so  suddenly  and  absolutely,  that  when  ^Pius 
v.,  in  1570,  was  asked  what  had  become  of  the  Steinberg 
negotiations,  he  could  only  say  that  he  did  not  know.  The 
Vatican  had  been  humoured,  and  explanations,  at  once  pain- 
ful and  needless,  would  not  have  sufficed  to  dissipate  the 
unsavoury  remembrance  of  the  buccaneering  chancellor 
foisted  on  them  by  Schlitte's  bold  policy.  Thus  far 
Steinberg. 

Turn  we  now  to  Schlitte.  When  Steinberg  left  for  Home, 
the  "  Kussian  Ambassador  "  (he  never,  even  when  his  stomach 
was  as  empty  as  his  purse,  forgot  his  dignity)  remained 
behind  to  register  developments.  Would  Steinberg  succeed? 
If  so,  of  course  Schlitte  would  head  the  triumphal  procession 
to  Moscow,  where  Ivan  IV.  would  get  the  Royal  Crown, 
prestige,  strength  against  the  Poles,  with  Moscow  the  head- 
quarters of  Slavism,  and  would  give  nothing.  Would 
Steinberg  fail?  Then  Steinberg's  failure  would  not  be 
Schlitte's  failure, 

Dolce  e  mirar  dal  lido 

Chi  sta  per  naufragar; 

and  he  could  return  to  Moscow  without  the  danger  of  having 


Hicnwuring  the  Vatican  in  the  Sixteenth  Century.    1023 

his  head  chopped  off,  or  at  least  being  knouted.  What  easier 
than  to  repudiate  with  indignation  the  indefatigable  chan- 
cellor whom  he  created  by  his  own  fiat,  and  whose 
documents  he  sealed  with  Austrian  seals.  Whatever  way 
this  manoeuvre  ended,  Schlitte  was  sure  to  come  on  his  feet,. 
He  never  compromised  himself ;  he  never  went  to  Eome  ; 
he  never  left  the  frontier  countries  where  he  was  sent  to 
recruit  the  professors  who  came  to  grief  at  Liibeck.  What- 
ever befel  his  chancellor,  his  fingers  were  not  burned  with 
the  hot  chestnuts.  He  made  money  out  of  it.  And  that  is 
all  the  adventurer  wanted.  The  best  of  our  diplomatists 
look  for  political  advantages  when  they  send  missions  to 
Eome.  That  Schlitte  made  money  of  it,  shows  that  he  had 
the  peculiarity  of  preferring  cash,  good  Austrian  florins,  or 
Koman  scudi,  to  the  mere  ephemeral  and  windy  advantages 
which  one  political  party  gains  over  another.  That  this 
phase  of  the  question  had  its  attractions  for  Schlitte,  is  only 
too  obvious :  indeed  the  thinness  of  the  whole  business  gives 
it  such  a  transparency,  that,  in  spite  of  the  secrecy  with 
which  financial  transactions  of  a  shaky  kind  are  usually 
conducted,  a  certain  mercenary  atmosphere  surrounds  the 
whole  proceeding.  For  instance.  Count  Philip  d'Eberstein 
offers  Steinberg  all  the  needful  money,  provided  that  when 
he  would  go  to  Rome  he  would  secure  for  him  possession  of 
the  old  abbey  of  Wiirtenburg  from  the  Pope.  Such  an  offer 
would  not  be  lost,  if  Schlitte  had  a  free  hand.  Steinberg 
had  money,  Schlitte  had  none.  The  offer  was  to  Schlitte's 
chancellor,  and  a  man  of  genius  like  Schlitte  would  not  be 
embarrassed  for  want  of  a  principle  to  annex  all  the  money 
the  Count  was  willing  to  spend.  Qui  facit  per  alium  facit 
per  se;  partus  seqiiitur  ventrem — something — whoever  gives 
to  Steinberg  gives  to  Schlitte — and,  of  course,  the  money 
would  be  safe  until  they  would  all  get  back  to  Moscow. 

But  back  to  Schlitte.  During  the  Steinberg  negotiations 
he  lay  low  ;  but  he  was  not  idle.  He  kept  his  ears  open,  and 
bided  his  time.  He  heard  of  Steinberg's  doings — for  Schlitte 
always  moved  in  diplomatic  society ;  he  knew  how  Poland 
was  alarmed  lest  Eome  and  Eussia  should  enter  a  compact 
detrimental  to  their  country  ;  he  knew  the  latest  movement 


1024    Humouring  the  Vatican  in  the  Sixteenth  Century. 

of  the  Emperor  Charles  V.,  the  final  decision  of  Pope  Julius 
III.,  and  the  final  smash-down  of  his  chancellor,  and  when 
this  last  information  reached  his  ears  he  at  length  discovered 
that  there  was  nothing  more  to  be  made  out  of  the  question ; 
so,  without  creating  any  more  chancellors,  as  ho  did  not  want 
them,  or  without  condoling  with  the  one  he  did  create,  he 
turned  his  eyes  towards  holy  Kussia  (1554). 

He  now  appears  in  a  new  character.  We  remember  how 
enthusiastic  he  was  about  the  conversion  of  Eussia  to  the 
Catholic  faith.  Rome  was  everything  to  him  then ;  he  wrote 
fluently  and  touchingly  about  Rome  and  the  Pope.  Rome 
was  the  loadstone  of  his  soul ;  and  as  it  suited  his  purpose 
to  say  it,  he  said  it.  He  was  quite  willing  to  undergo  any 
suffering,  any  labour  for  the  union  of  the  East  with  Rome. 

"  Eomains  j'aime  ta  gloire,  et  ne  veux  point  m  en  taire, 
Des  travaux  des  hommes  c'est  le  digne  salaire 
Ce  n'est  qu'en  vous  servant  qu'il  la  faut  acheter 
Qui  n'ose  la  vouloir,  n'ose  la  meriter," 

He  did  both,  but  when  he  recovered  he  wanted  his  fare  to 
Russia,  and  a  safe  conduct  to  recommend  him.  to  the  police- 
men on  the  way.  And  this  champion  of  Rome  v/ho  was 
beslavering  Rome  with  his  fulsome  adulation  and  his  lying 
pretensions,  and  his  hypocrisy,  writes  for  a  safe  conduct  to 
Christian  III.  at  Copenhagen.  His  reminiscences  of  Liibeck 
were  not  of  the  kind  that  get  embalmed  in  the  memory,  so 
he  resolved  to  leave  Liibeck  far  beyond  the  horizon  and 
return  to  Moscow  via  Denmark.  In  Russia  he  was  a  Greek  ; 
in  Germany,  before  Charles  V.,  a  pious  CathoHc  ;  he  is  now 
a  Protestant.  He  sends  his  courier,  Barwert  Berner,  to 
Copenhagen,  with  a  long  letter  to  Christian.  He  recounts 
his  royal  munificence,  the  royal  virtues,  the  royal  protection 
afforded  to  the  oppressed,  and  deplores  the  barbarism  of 
the  holy  Empire,  where  he  suffered  so  much  for  justice' 
sake ;  where  nobody  shielded  him  from  persecution,  because 
Christian  was  not  there.  He  wisely  abstains  from  any 
reference  to  the  Steinberg  enterprise.  He  knew  Christian  III. 
He  was  an  active  reformer.  He  protected  bad  Catholics 
wherever  they  were.  Luther  was  an  apostate,  and  Christian 
supplies  him  with  pocket  money ;  he  gave  Melancthon  an 


Humouring  the  Vatican  in  the  Sixteenth  Century.    1025 

allowance ;  and  allowed  Bugenhagen  his  travelling  expenses. 
Why  not  help  another  good  Protestant  like  Schlitte  ?  Why 
not  give  him  a  simple  safe-conduct,  and  help  him  through  to 
go  back  to  his  master  Ivan  IV.,  who  was  longing  to  see  him 
at  the  Kremlin,  where  Christian's  name  for  the  aforesaid 
concession  to  an  "ambassador"  in  distress  would  be  cherished 
in  grateful  benediction  for  ever  and  ever  ?  Still  more :  he 
assures  Christian  that  Ivan  was  quite  ready  to  become  a 
Protestant.  All  he  wanted  was  a  few  good  learned  Protes- 
tant doctors,  like  Dr.  Luther,  and  the  thing  was  done.  But 
all  was  of  no  avail.  Denmark  and  Eussia  were  bad  friends, 
and  Christian  politely  informed  him  that,  not  knowing  the 
intentions  of  his  "very  particular  friend,"  the  Tsar,  he 
did  not  wish  to  interfere  in  his  concerns.  So  he  regretted 
that  he  could  not  befriend  his  poor  weather-beaten  am- 
bassador. 

Once  more  Schlitte  was  in  difficulties.  In  1555  he  wrote 
to  the  Tsar  for  money,  on  the  plea  presumably  that  he  was 
still  busy  hunting  up  the  professors  who  had  met  such  scant 
courtesy  at  the  hands  of  the  Liibeckians.  The  same  year 
he  applied  for  a  remittance  to  the  Diet  of  Augsbourg ;  but  he 
was  well  known  there,  and  he  met  with  a  rebuff.  He 
was  at  last  fallen  on  evil  days,  his  game  was  played 
out ;  but  he  played  it  in  finished  style  while  it  lasted. 
Two  years  later  he  reached  Moscow,  and  not  unlikely 
under  the  greatest  difficulties.  To  the  traveller,  Moscow 
was  then  as  far  as  Kamschatka  is  now.  When  he 
reached  home  after  all  his  adventures  he  set  himself  to 
work  to  exploit  the  Tsar  in  a  quiet  way.  Our  readers  will 
remember  that  Charles  V.  wrote  to  Ivan  in  1558  to  com- 
pliment him  on  the  great  efforts  he  was  making  for  the 
civilization  of  the  fast-growing  Slav  kingdom,  of  which 
Moscow  was  the  centre.  Schlitte  could  not  brook  the  idea 
of  being  idle,  and  leaving  his  master's  correspondence  in 
arrears.  So  he  writes  an  answer  himself  in  the  name  of 
Ivan  lY.  As  his  chancellor  has  written  copious  despatches  and 
instructions  to  kings,  cardinals,  and  the  Pope,  there  could  not 
be  much  incongruity  in  the  master  of  that  same  chancellor 
writing  an  answer  from  the  Tsar  to  the  Emperor.  The  utmost 
VOL.  XII.  3  X 


1026    Humouring  the  Vatican  in  the  Sixteenth  Century. 

indifference  with  which  Schlitte  dashes  off  enormous  items  of 
information,  and  elaborates  a  go-ahead  policy  of  magnificent 
dimensions,  conveys  the  impression  of  doing  business  on  a 
scale  of  unparalleled  grandeur.  He  shapes  his  answer  on 
the  following  lines : — The  Tsar  is  quite  ready  to  disburse 
large  sums  of  money  for  the  war  against  the  Turks  (Charles 
V.'s  idea  exactly);  to  send  an  ambassador  to  the  Court  of  the 
Holy  Empire  (Charles  V.'s  idea  again)  ;  to  start  a  postal 
service  between  Moscow  and  Augsbourg  ;  to  create  a  German 
regiment  and  an  order  of  knights ;  and  to  seal  all  this  grand 
union  of  the  Catholic  Church  by  an  exchange  of  hostages — 
the  Tsar  to  send  twenty-five  youths  of  the  best  Kussian 
families  to  Charles.  As  for  the  union  of  the  Churches,  it  is 
a  mere  trifle,  and  the  Tsar  is  thirsting  for  it.  He  need  not 
go  into  minutiae  in  his  letter  ;  it  is  a  matter  of  theological 
subtleties,  which  can  be  best  left  to  the  Doctors  of  Divinity, 
who  will  be  able  to  adjust  the  matter  to  everybody's  satis- 
faction straightaway.  When  the  aforesaid  doctores  graves 
come  to  Moscow  there  will  be  no  delay  in  settling  the 
question ;  and  in  the  meantime  the  grand  old  glorious  idea 
of  a  universal  Catholic  Republic,  girding  Europe  with  its 
armies,  is  secured. 

He  once  more  fired  the  imagination  of  his  earlier  years — 
an  effort  fully  worthy  of  the  1548  diplomacy ;  but  it 
was  his  last.  Charles  V.  never  saw  the  letter,  for  it 
was  never  sent;  and  we  need  not  say  Ivan  never  saw 
it.  It  was  Schlitte's  last  forgery  and  his  last  fraud.  He 
disappears  for  evermore  as  quietly  as  his  chancellor.  History 
is  silent  as  to  when  he  died,  and  we  need  not  concern  our- 
selves about  it. 

Such  is  this  man's  history — daring,  unscrupulous,  a  liar, 
a  forger,  at  once  a  Catholic,  a  schismatic,  a  heretic  ;  planning 
to-day  a  campaign  against  the  Turks  with  an  emperor, 
and  an  alliance  with  them  with  a  king  ;  converting  Russia  to 
Catholicism  with  Charles  V.,  and  to  Protestantism  with 
Christian  III. ;  he  was  never  at  a  loss  for  a  plausible  tale  to 
give  colour  to  the  dignity  which  he  assumed,  and  to  the  office 
which  he  conferred  on  his  chancellor.  He  deceived  every- 
'body  he  wanted  to  deceive,  whenever  and  wherever  it  suited 


Humouring  the  Vatican  in  the  Sixteenth  Century.    1027 

his  purpose.  Kings,  emperors,  popes,  or  cardinals — at 
Copenhagen  or  in  the  Holy  Empire,  in  Vienna  or  in 
Kome,  Schlitte  was  always  Schlitte — always  planning, 
plotting,  scheming,  and  making  provision  for  getting 
out  of  any  given  difficulty  in  half-a-dozen  ways.  It  was 
nothing  to  Schlitte  that  he  was  betraying  and  stultifying 
the  most  sacred  authority  on  earth,  or  that  he  was  seeking 
paltry  political  advantages  by  daring  forgeries,  which  would 
one  day  or  another  give  him  his  proper  place  in  history ;  and 
all  that  in  the  name  of  a  man  whose  horrors  and  crimes  are 
to  this  day  remembered  in  Kussia.  Nothing  seems  so  well 
calculated  to  give  us  an  idea  of  the  man's  utter  daring  as 
to  recall  the  master  in  whose  name  he  planned  his  selfish 
schemes  before  the  eyes  of  western  Europe  for  six  years. 
Ivan  IV.,  son  of  Vasili,  was  born  in  1530.  He  succeeded  to 
the  family  tradition  of  autocracy  in  its  most  absolute  sense. 
He  claimed  neither  regal  honours  from  the  Pope  nor  royal 
status  from  the  boiars  {optimates).  He  was  his  father's  son, 
and  inherited  his  father's  thoroughness  both  of  mind  and 
body. 

'*  Eussorum  rex  et  Dominus  sum  ;  jure  paterni 
Sanguinis  :  imperii  titulus  a  nemine,  quavis 
Mercatus  prece,  vel  precio  :  nee  legibus  ullis 
Subditus  alterius,  sed  Christo  credulus  uni 
Emendicatos  aliis  aspernor  honores.'' 

So  sang  his  father  in  questionable  poetry,  but  unquestionable 
prose.  Ivan  Vasilievieh,  surnamedthe  Terrible,  strained  this 
absolutism  to  indulge  in  every  crime.  He  was  the  Kussian 
Nero,  with  a  blend  of  Henry  VIII.  He  had  seven  wives,  and 
thus  beat  the  English  king's  record.  He  instituted  a  body- 
guard {oprichniks) ,  who  were  the  blood-letters  of  their  blood- 
thirsty master.  During  his  reign  blood  flowed  in  Eussia. 
He  never  spared  an  enemy,  even  a  suspected  one ;  and  an 
act  of  clemency  was  not  ever  extended  to  friend  or  foe  when- 
ever Ivan  was  thirsting  for  more  blood.  He  butchered 
members  of  his  own  family,  and  then  prayed  to  the  saints 
for  forgiveness.  He  Kussianized  the  Kussian  Church,  tore 
it  further  away  from  the  Catholic  Church  than  any  of  his 


1028     Humouring  the  Vatican  in  the  Sixteenth  Century. 

predecessors;  and  all  this  time  Schlitte  was  representing  him 
in  the  "West  as  a  mild  lamb  ruling  his  people  with  his  own 
sweet  authority,  sighing  for  the  reunion  of  Christendom,  and, 
like  another  St.  Ignatius  in  the  North,  living  for  nothing  but 
the  glory  of  God  and  the  welfare  of  the  Christian  Common, 
wealth  ! 

Schlitte's  daring,  however,  was  not  far  in  excess  of  the 
absurdly  ridiculous  degree  of  credulity  which  at  all  times 
his  dupes  manifested.  Steinberg's  procedure  was  highly 
suspicious.  That  a  bogus  chancellor  could  be  created  by  a 
penniless  man  just  escaped  from  prison,  at  a  time  when  the 
ways  of  Kussian  diplomacy  were  well-known,  is  very  remark- 
able ;  but  that  the  Eoman  Commission  should  acquiesce  in 
the  aforesaid  "  chancellor's"  remarkable  methods  and  plans, 
argues  an  amount  of  sweet,  childlike  innocence  and  lovable 
blandness  which  well-read  people  hardly  expect  to  find  in 
that  quarter.  Three  ranks  of  Russian  diplomats  were  well 
known,  and  the  Schlitte-cum- Steinberg  combination  fell  into 
line  with  none  of  them ;  and  still  Rome  remained  to  the  end 
full  of  confidence,  until  at  length  the  bubble  was  pricked,  and 
the  humouring  of  the  Vatican  came  to  nought,  as  such 
schemes  ever  will. 

Here  we  leave  Hans  Schlitte  of  Goslar.  He  was  a  man 
of  talent  and  ingenuity,  but  not  of  that  kind  which  history 
will  applaud,  although  it  will  appreciate  it.  We  are  satisfied 
if  we  have  placed  his  claims  for  remembrance  before  our 
readers,  as  one  of  the  adventurers  of  the  past,  who,  in  an 
hour  of  trouble  for  the  Church,  sought  vulgar  gains  at  the 
expense  of  the  Vicar  of  Christ. 

Joseph  Tynan. 


L    1029    ] 

^beoloQical  iSlueetion^, 


May  a  Priest  who  asks  another  to  say  Mass  for  which 
A  Honorarium  was  given,  retain  for  himself  a  part 
OF  the  Honorarium  ? 

"  Rev.  Dear  Sie, 

"  Please  inform  me  in  the  pages  of  the  I.  E.  Record  what  I 
am  bomid  to  do  under  the  following  circumstances  :  — 

"  For  the  past  ten  years  I  have  been  pastor  of  a  church  with 
two  assistants.  The  fee  for  a  solemn  requiem  mass  in  my  parish 
is  twenty-five  dollars.  When  I  celebrated  I  gave  the  deacon, 
sub-deacon,  and  organist  (the  choir  is  a  voluntary  one),  two  and 
a- half  dollars  each,  and  kept  the  balance,  seventeen  and  one-half 
dollars,  for  myself.  If,  however,  from  any  cause,  I  was  unable  to 
celebrate,  one  of  my  assistants  celebrated,  and  the  fee  was  divided 
as  follows  : — celebrant,  ten  dollars  ;  deacon,  sub-deacon,  and 
organist,  two  and  one-half  dollars  each,  leaving  me  a  balance  of 
seven  and  one-half  dollars  in  case  I  did  not  officiate  at  all,  and 
ten  dollars  when,  as  sometimes  it  happened,  I  acted  either  as 
deacon  or  sub-deacon. 

'•'  The  fee  for  a  high  mass  of  requiem,  without  deacon  or  sub- 
deacon,  is  fifteen  dollars.  Of  this  two  and  one-half  dollars  went 
to  the  organist.  When  I  celebrated,  I  kept  the  balance.  If  one 
of  my  assistants  celebrated,  I  gave  him  ten  dollars,  keeping  two 
and  one-half  dollars  for  myself,  even  when  I  had  nothing  to  do 
with  the  mass. 

"  On  All  Souls'  Day  the  faithful  make  an  offering  for  a  requiem 
mass,  amounting  sometimes  to  one  hundred  dollars.  When  I 
celebrated,  I  kept  the  whole  amount,  less  two  and  one-half  dollars 
each  for  deacon,  sub-deacon,  and  organist.  On  one  or  two  occa- 
sions I  was  unable  to  celebrate  myself,  but  gave  an  assistant  ten 
dollars  for  doing  so. 

"  Have  I  done  wrong  in  any  or  all  of  these  cases  ?  If  so,  am  I 
bound  to  make  restitution  ?  to  whom  ?  and  to  what  extent  ? 

"  Pastor." 

1.  Our  correspondent's  questions  require  us  to  examine 
one  of  the  celebrated  Declarations  or  Decrees  de  celehra- 
Hone  Missarum  of  the  Sacred  Congregation  of  the  Council, 


1030  Theological  Questions, 

published  in  the  year  1625,  by  order  of  Urban  VIII.,  and 
republished  and  confirmed  by  Innocent  XII.,  in  the  year 
1697  :  "  Omne  damnabile  lucrum  ab  Ecclesia  removere 
volens  [Pontifex]  prohibet  sacerdoti  qui  Missam  suscepit 
celebrandam  cum  certa  eleemosyna,  ne  eamdem  missam 
alteri,  parte  ejusdem  eleemosynae  sibi  retenta,  celebrandam 
committat."  We  shall  now  consider  the  extent  of  this 
prohibition  in  a  general  way ;  its  bearing  on  masses  both 
jperpetual  and  manual;  and  in  particular  its  application  to 
the  questions  proposed  by  our  correspondent. 

2.  We  may  say,  generally,  that  it  is  not  lawful  for  a 
priest  who  has  got  a  lionorarium  for  a  mass,  and  who 
appoints  another  priest  to  say  the  mass,  to  retain  for  him- 
self a  part  of  the  Jionorarium,  unless  there  was  at  the 
beginning  some  extrinsic  title  for  the  acceptance  of  the 
honorariuin — some  title  distinct  from,  and  extrinsic  to  the 
celebration  of  mass  itself.  It  is  of  importance,  therefore, 
to  consider  when  a  honorarium  is  supposed  to  be  given 
from  other  motives  than  the  celebration  of  mass  alone. 

3.  Masses  are  of  two  kinds — perpetual  and  manual,  or 
adventitious :  "  Nemo  ignorat  perpetuas  alias,  alias  vero 
adventitias  Missas  nuncupari.  Primae  quidem  quotidie  vel 
certis  quibusdam  diebus  ratione  Beneficii,  aut  Fundatoris 
instituto,  vel  Testatoris  voluntate  celebrantur.  Adventitiae 
vocantur  pro  quibus  stipendium  a  Fidelibus  traditur,  ita 
tamen  ut  nullus  fundus,  nullumque  onus  in  futurum  tempus 
constituatur."  (Bened.  XIY.,  Inst.  EccL,  L.  vi.,  n.  10.) 
The  Decree  of  the  Sacred  Congregation  referred  to  does  not 
affect  perpetual  masses,  but  only  manual  masses ;  because 
in  the  case  of  perpetual  masses  there  is  always  some 
extrinsic  title  for  the  acceptance  of  the  honoraria.     Hence  : 

I.  If  a  parish  priest  got  a  substitute  to  offer  mass  for 
his  people  on  a  Sunday,  he  is  not  bound  to  give  him  a  pro 
rata  of  his  whole  income,  though  his  income  from  the 
parish  is  his  o^^n  honorarium  for  the  Missa  pro  populo. 
The  reason  is,  because  a  parish  priest's  income  is  not  given 
exclusively  as  a  honorarium  for  the  mass  which  he  offers  for 
his  parishioners  on  Sundays  and  holidays.  Hahetur  titulus, 
extrinsecus,  "  l**  quando  agitur  de  Missis  parochiali  prae- 


Theological  Questions.  1031 

bendae,  Beneficiis,  aut  Capellaniis  inhaerentibus  ;  quia 
Parochi,  beneficiati,  Capellani  non  debent  pro  celebratione 
harum  Missaruin  dare  stipendium  quod  fructibus  praebendae 
respondeat,  sed  manuale  ;  cum  hos  fructus  non  solo  titulo 
celebrationis  suos  facient."   (Varceno,  vol.  ii.,  page  82.) 

II.  The  same  is  true  of  masses  that  are  literally  per- 
petual.  Habetur  titulus  extri7isecus,  '*  2^  quando  agitur  de 
Missis  perpetuis  alicui  Sacerdoti  demandatis.  Nam  hie 
aliud  onus  suscipit  ab  ipsa  celebratione  distinctum,  quod  .  . 
est  pretio  aestimabile."  (Idem.) 

4.  We  come  now  to  consider  manual  masses.  Manual 
honoraria  may  be  taken  in  a  strict  sense  to  mean  offerings 
given  exclusively  for  the  celebration  of  mass ;  and  when 
such  a  honorarium  is  received,  it  is  not  lawful  when 
deputing  another  to  say  the  mass,  to  retain  any  part  of  the 
honorarium  ;  except  when  the  priest  who  is  to  say  the  massi 
spontaneously  and  unasked,  offers  to  say  it  for  a  smaller 
honorarium.  "  Ergo  concluditur  e  contrario  .  .  .  2.  Si 
alter  sacerdos,  cui  Missa  dicenda  committitur,  7i07i  rogatus 
libere  omnino  partem  aliquam  cedit,  si  quidem  id  pro  puro 
dono  tum  habetur."  (Lehmkuhl,  tom.  ii.,  page  150,  n.  204.) 

5.  Finally,  there  are  manual  honoraria  which  are  not 
given  exclusively  for  the  celebration  of  masses ;  but  are 
given  primarily  as  a  legacy  ;  or  intuitu  personae  ;  or  consti- 
tute an  honorary  part  of  the  priest's  income  to  whom  they 
are  given;  or  belong  to  what  are  called  jura  stolae.  In 
these  cases  a  priest  may  appoint  another  to  say  the  mass 
or  masses  required,  and  retain  for  himself  a  part  of  the 
hojiorarium. 

I.  Habetur  titulus  extrinsecus,  "  Quando  legatum  alicui 
relinquitur  cum  onere  Missarum;  nam  legatum  habet 
rationem  donationiset  semper  causam  lucrativam  continet." 
(Varceno,  ihid.) 

This,  however,  is  true  only  when  the  legacy  is  primarily 
intended,  and  the  obligation  of  having  masses  celebrated  is 
attached  to  the  legacy.  But  if  the  testator  primarily 
intended  to  leave  money  for  masses,  and  appointed  an 
executor  rather  than  a  legatee  strictly  so  called,  the  masses 
should  be  reojarded  as  manual  ynasses  in  the  strict  sense. 


1032  Theological  Questions. 

II.  Hahetur  tituhis  extrinsecus ,  "  Quando  in  Missis 
adventitiis  sive  lectis  sive  cantatis  eleemosyna  pinguior 
consueta  conceditur  intuitu  personae,  scil.  propter  ipsiiis 
dignitatem  vel  officium,  &c."  (Ibid.) 

III.  "  Quando  eleemosynae  Missarum  adventitiarum 
extraordinariae  Parochi  congrnam  efformant."  (Ibid.)  Hence 
in  Ireland,  wherever  the  custom  exists  of  saying  only  one 
mass  or  a  few  masses  for  the  lionoraria  received  on  the 
second  of  November,  if  a  parish  priest  or  a  curate  appointed 
a  delegate  to  say  these  masses,  he  would  not  be  bound  to 
give  him  all  the  offerings,  but  only  the  usual  manual  stipend. 
Because  these  offerings  partake  of  the  nature  of  parochial 
dues  ;  and,  therefore,  are  not  given  exclusively  for  the 
celebration  of  masses. 

IV.  ''  Quando  agitur  de  Missis  adventitiis  quae  pertinent 
ad  Parochum  ex  juribus  stolae,  quae  sunt  Missae  nuptiales, 
et  Missae  exequiales,  quarum  celebratio  de  jure  et  consue- 
tudine  ad  Parochos  spectat."   {Ibid.) 

6.  It  is  easy  to  apply  these  principles  to  the  questions 
proposed  by  our  correspondent.  The  masses  to  which  he 
refers  were  not  perpetual  masses  ;  neither  were  they  what 
we  have  called  manual  masses  in  the  strict  sense  of  the 
word ;  the  honoraria  given  for  these  masses  were  not  given 
exclusively  for  the  celebration  of  the  masses ;  but  were 
either  a  portion  of  the  Pastor's  income — as,  for  example,  the 
November  offerings — or  belonged  to  what  are  called  the 
jtira  stolae.  Therefore,  we  conclude  that  our  correspondent 
in  appointing  a  substitute,  was  not  bound  to  give  him  the 
whole  of  the  stipend  which  he  himself  had  received ;  that 
he  was  not  wrong  in  any  of  the  cases  mentioned,  unless 
there  was  some  violation  of  local  ecclesiastical  law ;  and 
that  he  is  not  bound  to  make  any  restitution. 

7.  Finally,  we  would  refer  our  readers  for  a  full  treat- 
ment of  this  question  to  Varceno,  whom  we  have  quoted  at 
great  length ;  Lehmkuhl,  Konings,  and  the  Acta  S.  Sedis, 
vol  viii.  And  we  have  in  conclusion  to  express  our  sincere 
regret  to  our  correspondent  for  having,  through  pressure  of 
other  duties,  delayed  for  too  long  a  time  an  answer  to  his 
questions.  D.  Coghlan, 


[    1033    ] 

Xiturcjical  (Slueetione. 


THE   ECCLESIASTICAL   CALENDAE. — i. 

In  the  beginning  of  our  missals  and  breviaries  we  find 
several  pages  of  elaborately  constructed  tables.  Some  of 
these  tables  are  called  Paschal  or  Easter  Tables;  the 
othem,  Tables  of  the  Movable  Feasts.  The  former  are  per- 
petual ;  that  is,  they  give  the  date  of  Easter,  and  consequently 
of  the  feasts  connected  with  Easter,  for  all  past  and  future 
time.  The  latter  tables  are  only  temporary,  and  give  the 
dates  of  the  movable  feasts,  of  course  including  Easter,  for  a 
longer  or  shorter  period  according  to  the  size  of  the  page 
and  the  quality  of  the  type  employed.  But  even  a  single 
glance  at  these  two  sets  of  tables  will  reveal  a  very  marked 
difference  between  them.  And  if  after  a  glance  one  were 
asked  wheroni  this  difference  consists,  he  would,  no  doubt, 
reply,  that  one  set  appears  intelligible,  the  other  utterly 
unintelligible.  The  Easter  Tables  at  first  and  for  a  con- 
siderable time  present  nothing  but  a  perplexing  puzzle 
apparently  impossible  of  solution ;  while  the  Tables  of 
Movable  Feasts,  so  far  as  pointing  out  the  dates  of  these 
feasts  on  the  years  included  in  the  tables,  present  no  kind  of 
difficulty  whatsoever.  The  real  and  objective  difference, 
however,  between  the  two  sets  of  tables  is,  that  the  Easter 
Tables  are  the  formulae  from  which  by  a  process  of  calcu- 
lation the  others  are  constructed  :  the  former  are  the  seed  ; 
the  latter,  the  well-proportioned  tree,  reared  from  the  seed 
by  the  skill  and  care  of  the  gardener.  And  just  as  no  one 
but  a  skilled  botanist  can  tell  what  species  of  tree  a  parti- 
cular seedling  should  produce,  while  anyone  seeing  the  tree 
can  at  once  tell  to  what  species  it  belongs  ;  so,  while  from 
the  latter  tables  the  most  inexperienced  can  find  the  date  of 
Easter,  and  of  all  its  train  of  feasts,  only  experts  can  with 
absolute  certainty  use  the  former  tables  for  this  purpose. 

Though  so  different,  these  two  sets  of  tables  have  still 
something  in  common.  But  this  something  is  not,  unfor- 
tunately, a  ray  of  light  borrowed  by  the  obscure  set  from  its 


1034  Liturgical  Questio7is. 

more  luminous  neighbour:  on  the  contrary,  it  is  a  dark 
cloud  received  from  the  former  into  the  bosom  of  the  latter, 
and  requiring  to  be  penetrated  by  him  who  would  fully 
understand  these  latter,  or  the  principle  on  which  they  are 
constructed.  And  this  cloud  is  lined  with  triple  darkness  ; 
or,  to  drop  metaphor,  there  are  three  things,  each  involving 
considerable  difficulty,  which  we  must  understand  before  we 
can  fully  understand  even  the  easier  set  of  tables,  and  an 
intimate  knowledge  of  which  is  absolutely  necessary  to 
enable  us  to  employ  the  more  difficult  set.  These  three 
things  are  the  Golden  Number,  the  Dominical  Letter,  and 
the  Epacts — titles  which  we  see  at  the  head  of  as  many 
parallel  columns  on  the  page  devoted  to  the  Old  Paschal 
Tables,  still  printed  in  our  missals  and  breviaries,  as  well 
as  on  the  page  or  pages  devoted  to  the  Tables  of  Movable 
Feasts,  In  the  New  Easter  Tables,  compiled  by  Lilius  and 
Clavius  at  the  time  of  the  reform  of  the  calendar  by 
Gregory  XIII.,  the  Golden  Number  is  dispensed  with,  and 
only  the  Dominical  Letter  and  the  Epacts  are  employed. 
The  omission  of  the  Golden  Number  in  the  new  tables  is  due, 
as  we  shall  see,  to  the  extension  and  to  the  extended  use 
of  the  cycle  of  Epacts ;  but  even  in  these  tables  it  can  still 
be  usefully  employed  in  conjunction  with  the  other  two 
elements.  But  more  of  this  afterwards.  At  present  let  us 
pause  for  a  moment,  and  look  back  over  the  ages  that  are 
past,  that  we  may  learn  in  what  esteem  for  many  centuries 
was  held  the  now  neglected,  if  not  despised,  knowledge  of 
how  to  compile  the  calendar  of  movable  feasts,  or  of  the 
computus  ecclesiasticus,  as  it  was  then  called. 

It  sounds  like  exaggeration  to  say  that  this  knowledge 
was  once  considered  indispensable  in  candidates  for  the 
priesthood.  And  yet  in  reality  this  statement  does  not 
convey  a  fair  idea  of  the  vast  importance  of  old  attached  to 
this  knowledge.  Without  it  priests  were  unworthy  of  their 
sacred  title. ^  All  aspirants  to  the  priesthood  were  to  be 
early  and  fully  imbued  with  it,  and  bishops  in  testing  the 

^ "  Sacerdotes  computum  scire  tenentur,  alioquin  vix  eis  nomen  sacer- 
dotis  constabit."  Diirandus,  Rat.  div.  o^ci,  1.  yiii.,  c.  9.  Of,  Decret, 
Gratiani.,  c.  v.  dist.  38. 


Liturgical  Questions.  1035 

acquirements  of  their  priests,  and  of  young  men  presenting 
themselves  for  Holy  Orders,  were  wont  to  insist  as  strongly 
on  this  knowledge  as  on  a  knowledge  of  the  Lord's  Prayer 
and  the  Apostles'  Creed.^  Even  the  Council  of  Trent 
mentions  the  computus  as  one  of  the  subjects  which  should 
be  diligently  taught  in  ecclesiastical  seminaries.^  And  still 
later,  Benedict  XIII.,  speaking  of  the  education  and  training 
of  ecclesiastical  students,  insists  in  the  most  solemn  manner 
on  the  exact  observance  of  this  decree  of  the  Council  of 
Trent,  the  very  words  of  which  he  makes  his  own.^ 

This  knowledge,  declared  by  popes  and  councils,  by 
bishops  and  canonists,  to  be  so  essential  for  ecclesiastics, 
was  almost  equally  necessary  for  laymen  having  any  preten- 
sions to  a  liberal  education.  As  the  ecclesiastical  authorities 
required  it  in  those  w^ho  would  attain  to  the  dignity  of  the 
priesthood,  so  did  the  universities  require  it  in  all  who 
sought  degrees  or  distinctions  in  their  halls.* 

These  facts,  to  which  many  others  of  a  similar  kind  could 
easily  be  added,  offer  a  sufficient  apology  for  the  present 
essay,  especially  as  that  knowledge,  once  so  highly  prized,  is 
now  possessed  by  very  few  even  among  ecclesiastics.  But, 
apart  altogether  from  the  importance  formerly  attached  to 
the  computing  of  the  calendar,  the  subject  possesses  an 
intrinsic  interest,  which  must  attract  anyone  who  takes  the 
trouble  to  look  into  it.  So,  at  least,  it  has  for  a  long  time 
appeared  to  the  present  writer,  who  may  say,  with  Cardinal 
Newman  in  one  of  the  opening  sentences  of  an  essay  on 
the  Ordo  de  Tempore — a  subject,  by  the  way,  closely  related 
to  ours — ''  I  sometimes  fancy  I  could  interest  a  reader  in  it, 
and  I  will  try." 

It  has  been  hinted  already  that  the  methods  by  which 

^  Ludovicus  Cellotius  vere  dixit  episcopos  notitiam  computi  ecclesias- 
tici  presbyteris  et  cleris  pene  non  minus  necessariam  cen Suisse  quam 
orationem  dominicara  et  symbolum.  Revue  cles  Sciencefs  Ecclesiastiques, 
torn  9,  p.  17. 

2  Pueri  in  seminariis  recepti,  computi  ecclesiastici  aliarumque  bonarum 
artium  disciplinam  discent.     Seas.  23,  c.  17,  de  Refor. 

3  Constitut.  Creditae  nobis.     May  9,  1725. 

*Baccalarii  nostrae  facultatis  disputent,  legant  gratis  et  propter  Deum 
computosi  et  alia  mathematicalia  praecipue  tamen  Ecclesiae  Catholicao 
deservientia."     Old  Statutes  of  the  Univerdty  of  Vienna,  tit.  xii. 


1036  Liturgical  Questions. 

the  calendar  of  movable  feasts  is  computed  are  at  first  some- 
what difficult  to  understand.  But  if  we  dissect  them,  and 
examine  the  different  parts  separately  and  in  order,  the  diffi- 
culties will  disappear,  or  rather  they  will  not  appear  at  all. 
Following  the  natural  order,  we  must  begin  by  learning  what 
the  ecclesiastical  calendar  itself  is  ;  for  obviously  a  know- 
ledge of  what  it  is  should  precede  a  knowledge  of  how  it  is 
computed.  Now,  this  investigation  opens  up  the  whole 
question  of  the  origin  and  history  of  the  calendar  ;  of  the 
time  at  which  it  was  first  formed;  and  of  the  changes  subse- 
quently introduced.  And  as  the  ecclesiastical  calendar  is 
founded  on  the  civil,  and  is,  indeed,  almost  identical  with 
it,  we  must  begin  our  investigations  with  the  latter. 

The  civil  calendar  is  derived  from  the  Komans,  whose 
traditions  point  to  Eomulus,  the  founder  of  their  city,  as 
the  founder  of  their  calendar  also.  According  to  the  best 
authorities,^  the  year  of  Komulus  consisted  of  304  days, 
divided  into  ten  months.  Of  these  months,  four  had  thirt}^- 
one  days  each,  the  remaining  six  thirty  each.  The  first  month 
was  March,  which  accounts  for  the  now  inappropriate  and 
apparently  meaningless  names  of  the  four  last  months  of 
our  year — September,  October,  November,  December.  The 
fifth  and  sixth  months,  our  July  and  August,  were  named 
Quintilis  and  Sextilis,  on  the  same  principle. 

But  a  period  of  three  hundred  and  four  days,  not  being 
in  agreement  with  either  the  sun  or  the  moon,  could  not 
long  be  retained  as  a  fixed  unit  of  time.  Accordingly  we 
find  the  first  reform  of  the  calendar  attributed  to  Numa,^  the 
successor  of  Komulus,  who  is  said  to  have  introduced  the 
lunar  year,  consisting  of  twelve  lunations  or  lunar  months. 
And  since  a  lunar  month  corresponds  very  nearly  with  twenty- 
nine  and  a-half  days,'  the  year  of  Numa  should  have  had 

^  Petavius,  De  Doct  Temporum,  1.  ii.,  c.  74.  Neibuhr,  Hist,  of  Rome, 
vol.  i.;  p.  275,  English  trans.,  London,  1847.  Smith,  Diet,  of  Greek  and 
Roman  Antiquities.  Art.  "^Calendar."  Niebuhr  points  out  that  the  year  of 
Romulus  contained  exactly  thirty-eight  Etruscan  weeks  of  eight  days,  and 
that  six  such  yeari:  are  practically  equal  in  length  to  five  solar  years  of 
three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days,  the  ancient  lustrum. 

2  Ibidem. 

^  A.  lunation,  or  the  interval  from  new  moon  to  new  moon,  is  exactly 
29  days,  12  hours,  44  niinutes,  2-87  seconds, 


tiititrgical  Questions.  1037 

only  three  hundred  and  fifty-four  days.  But  three  hundred 
and  fifty-four  is  an  even  number,  and  even  numbers  were 
regarded  by  the  superstitious  Eomans  as  in  the  last  degree 
unlucky.  In  order,  therefore,  to  propitiate  the  adverse 
Fates,  one  day  v^as  added,  thus  giving  the  year  three  hundred 
and  fifty-five  days.  To  the  same  superstition  still  another 
sacrifice  was  made.  Six  of  the  months,  as  we  have  seen,  had 
thirty  days  each.  From  each  of  these  was  taken  one  day,  so 
that  the  ten  original  months  were  all  made  up  of  an  odd 
number  of  days,  namely,  thirty-one  and  twenty-nine.  And 
the  six  days  thus  deducted  being  joined  to  the  fifty-one  already 
added  to  the  year  of  Komulus,  the  whole  was  divided  between 
two  months,  to  one  of  which  were  given  twenty-nine,  to  the 
other  twenty-eight  days.  The  new  months  were  called 
Januarius  ai\d  Februariics,  the  latter  being  placed  at  the  end, 
the  former  at  the  beginning  of  the  year,  in  which  order  they 
remained  until  452  B.C.,  when,  by  a  decree  of  the  Decemvirs, 
February  was  made  to  follow  January  as  the  second  month 
of  the  year. 

But  Numa's  task  was  not  yet  complete.  He  had,  it  is 
true,  brought  the  year  into  harmony  with  the  moon.  But 
as  the  seasons  are  regulated  by  the  solar,  and  not  by  the 
lunar  year,  some  scheme  had  to  be  devised  whereby  the 
latter  might  be  made  to  coincide  with  the  former.  It  would 
seem  that  even  so  early  as  the  time  of  Numa,  the  Komans, 
afterwards  so  conspicuous  for  their  ignorance  of  astronomy, 
were  aware  that  their  civil  year  of  three  hundred  and  fifty- 
five  days  was  shorter  by  ten  or  eleven  days  than  the 
natural  or  solar  year.  Accordingly  it  was  ordered  by  Numa 
that  a  thirteenth  month  should  be  introduced  into  every 
second  year.  This  month,  called  Mercedonius,  was  to 
consist  alternately  of  twenty-two  and  twenty-three  days, 
and  was  to  be  introduced  between  the  23rd  and  24th  of 
February.  By  this  arrangement  ninety  intercalary  days 
were  added  to  each  period  of  eight  civil  years,  making  in  all 
two  thousand  nine  hundred  and  thirty  days.  But  eight  solar 
years  of  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  and  a-quarter  days  con- 
tain only  two  thousand  nine  hundred  and  twenty-two.  Hence, 
neglecting   the  inaccuracy  of  making   the  solar  year  equal 


10^8  Liturgical  Questioni$. 

to  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  and  a-quarter  days,  each 
year  was  now  on  an  average  one  day  too  long.  To  remedy 
this  it  was  determined  that  in  every  third  period  of  eight 
years,  instead  of  inserting  four  months  having  twenty-two 
and  twenty-three  days  alternately,  only  three  should  be 
inserted,  each  consisting  of  no  more  than  twenty-two  days. 
This  expedient  restored  complete  harmony  after  each  cycle 
of  twenty-four  years. 

But  devices  so  clumsy,  as  these  undoubtedly  were,  could 
not  be  employed  for  any  length  of  time  without  error  and  con- 
sequent confusion.  To  obviate  this  as  far  as  possible,  it  was 
at  length  resolved  to  hand  over  the  entire  control  of  the 
calendar  to  the  Pontiffs,  who,  it  was  thought,  would  concern 
themselves  to  have  the  various  feasts  of  the  year  celebrated 
on  the  correct  days  according  to  the  calendar.  But  the 
Pontiffs  did  nothing  of  the  sort.  Instead,  they  prostituted 
their  power  of  intercalating  to  the  most  venal  and  most 
disgraceful  of  uses.  They  lengthened  or  shortened  a  year 
according  as  they  wished  to  keep  a  friend  in  office  or  turn 
out  an  enemy,  to  ruin  a  creditor  or  crush  a  debtor.  And  so 
little  care  did  they  take  even  then  to  keep  the  civil  and  solar 
years  in  harmony,  that  at  the  time  of  Julius  Caesar  the 
equinoxes  were  actually  three  months  removed  from  their 
proper  places. 

This  disgraceful  disorder  in  so  important  an  element  of 
social,  political,  and  religious  life,  as  the  calendar,  Caesar 
determined  to  remove.  The  problem  to  be  solved  was  two- 
fold. The  error  which  had  been  permitted  to  creep  into  the 
calendar  was  to  be  corrected,  and  some  method  was  to  be 
devised  whereby  the  recurrence  of  a  similar  error  should  be 
effectually  prevented.  Caesar's  position  as  Fontifex  Maximus 
empowered  him  to  correct  the  error  of  the  past  by  adding  to 
any  year  as  many  days  as  would  suffice  to  restore  the  equi- 
noxes to  the  place  they  originally  held  in  the  time  of  Numa, 
namely,  March  25.  By  the  'aid,  chiefly  of  Sosigenes,  a 
Greek  astronomer,  a  scheme  was  devised  by  which  it  was 
hoped  all  future  confusion  would  be  avoided. 

The  year  to  which  the  necessary  number  of  days  was 
added  was  46  B.C.  (708  U.C.).     It  was  found  that  the  1st  of 


Liturgical  Questions.  1039 

January  of  that  year  occurred  ninety  entire  days  before  the 
proper  time ;  or,  in  other  words,  that  the  1st  of  January, 
46  B.C.,  was  in  reaHty  the  last  day  of  September,  47  B.c.^ 
The  ordinary  intercalary  month  of  twenty-three  days,  which 
w^as  due  to  this  year  was  inserted  as  usual  in  February,  thus 
reducing  the  difference  between  the  civil  and  the  natural 
calendar  to  sixty-seven  days  ;  and  these  days,  divided  into  two 
extraordinary  months  of  thirty-three  and  thirty-four  days,  were 
inserted  between  November  and  December.  The  year  46  B.C. 
consisted,  therefore,  of  the  extraordinary  number  of  four 
hundred  and  forty-five  days,  and  has  been  on  this  account 
called  by  many  contemporary  and  subsequent  writers  "The 
year  of  Confusion."  The  title  given  to  it  by  Macrobius, 
'*  The  last  year  of  Confusion,"  is  much  more  just. 

In  this  manner  Caesar  succeeded  in  making  the  25th  of 
March,  45  B.C.  (709  U.C),  coincide  with  the  vernal  equinox; 
and,  consequently,  in  making  the  1st  of  January  of  the  civil 
year  coincide  with  the  first  of  January  of  the  solar  year.  To 
preserve  this  coincidence  he  decreed  that  the  common  year 
in  future  should  consist  of  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days 
instead  of  three  hundred  and  fifty-five,  and  that  every  fourth 
year  an  additional  day  should  be  added  to  the  month  of 
February.  This  day,  like  the  intercalary  month  of  the  old 
calendar,  was  inserted  between  the  23rd  and  24th  of 
February.  In  the  mode  of  reckoning  the  days  of  the  month 
employed  by  the  Komans,  the  24th  of  February  was  called 
sexto-cale7idas  Martias;  and  in  order  not  to  change  the 
denomination  of  the  succeeding  days  of  February,  on  account 
of  the  intercalary  day,  it  was  decided  to  call  this  day  by  the 
same  name  as  the  24th.  Hence  in  every  fourth  year  there  were 
two  sextO'Calendas  Martias;  and  these  years  were  conse- 
quently called  bissextile  years. 

The  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days  of  which  the  year 
was  now  composed  were  redistributed  by  Caesar  among  the 
twelve  months.  The  odd  months,  beginning  with  January, 
were  to  have  thirty-one  days  each;  the  even  months,  thirty; 


*  Before  the  Julian  reform,  Kovember  and  December  had  only  twenty- 
nine  days  each. 


1040  Liturgical  Questions. 

except  February,  which  in  common  years  was  to  have  only 
twenty-nine,  and  in  bissextile  years  thirty.  This  sensible 
and  easily  remembered  distribution  was  disturbad  for  a  very 
frivolous  reason.  To  commemorate  Caesar's  action  in  reform- 
ing the  calendar,  the  old  title  of  the  month  Qivintilis  had 
been  changed  to  Julius.  The  Emperor  Augustus,  unwilling 
that  any  honour  should  be  paid  to  another  that  >vas  not  also 
accorded  to  himself,  had  the  name  of  the  month  Sextilis 
changed  into  Augicstus.  But,  according  to  the  existing  dis- 
tribution of  the  days  among  the  months,  Caesar's  month  had 
thirty-one  days,  while  that  to  which  the  name  of  Augustus 
was  given  had  only  thirty.  The  pride  of  Augustus  revolted 
at  this ;  he  insisted  that  his  month  should  have  as  many 
days  as  his  rival's  ;  and  to  satisfy  him  one  day  was  taken  from 
February  and  added  to  August,  thus  leaving  to  February 
"only  twenty-eight  days  in  common  years,  and  twenty-nine 
in  bissextile. 

But  the  Julian  calendar,  though  a  great  improvement  on 
that  of  Numa,  which  preceded  it,  was  not  perfect.  It  was 
founded  on  the  hypothesis  that  the  solar  year  contains 
exactly  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  and  a-quarter  days,  or 
three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days  six  hours.  But  this 
hypothesis  gives  to  the  solar  year  a  little  over  eleven  minutes 
too  much,  the  exact  length  of  the  year  being  three  hundred 
and  sixty- five  days,  five  hours,  forty-eight  minutes,  fifty 
seconds.  Caesar  and  his  advisers  seem  to  have  been  aware, 
if  not  of  the  exact  amount  of  the  excess  of  their  year  over 
the  true  solar  year,  at  least  that  there  was  an  excess.  It  is 
to  be  presumed,  however,  that  they  considered  the  excess  so 
trifling  that  it  might  be  altogether  neglected.  But  even  a 
very  trifling  error  in  each  year,  when  allowed  to  accumulate 
for  centuries,  must  make  its  presence  felt.  Eleven  minutes 
a  year  is  equivalent  to  an  entire  day  in  about  one  hundred 
and  thirty  years.  Hence  the  Julian  year  being  too  long  by 
about  this  amount,  the  equinoxes  receded  from  the  date  on 
which  they  were  fixed  by  Caesar  at  the  rate  of  one  day  in 
one  hundred  and  thirty  years.  Thus  it  happened  that  the 
vernal  equinox  with  which  Caesar  made  the  25th  of  March 
to  coincide,  fell  on  or  about  the  21st  of  March,  at  the  time 


Liturgical  Qiiestio7i€.  1041 

of  :tbe .Council  of  Nice,  celebrated  in  325  a.d.  And  although 
this  council,  in  determining  the  date  at  which  Easter  should 
be  celebrated,  made  the  vernal  equinox  an  essential  factor, 
and  fixed  the  21st  of  March  as  the  date  at  which  this  pheno- 
menon then  occurred,  no  notice  whatever  was  taken  of  the 
error  involved  in  the  Julian  calendar.  In  course  of  time  the 
vernal  equinox,  which  had  before  receded  from  the  25th  to 
the  21st  March,  receded  also  from  the  21st ;  and,  conse- 
quently, the  rule  laid  down  by  the  Council  of  Nice  for 
determining  the  date  of  Easter  became  more  and  more 
erroneous  as  the  centuries  went  on.  For  it  must  be  borne 
in  mind  that  those  who  computed  the  Easter  time  were 
guided,  not  by  the  actual  position  of  the  sun  in  the  heavens, 
but  by  the  dates  which  were  supposed  to  coincide  with 
certain  solar  phenomena. 

To  this  ever-increasing  separation  between  the  equinoxes 
and  their  dates,  as  defined  by  the  Nicene  Fathers,  attention 
was  frequently  called  from  the  eighth  to  the  sixteenth 
century.  In  the  thirteenth  century  Eoger  Bacon  proposed 
a  simple  and  practical  method  of  removing  the  error  and 
of  preventing  it  afterwards,  and  urged  Pope  Clement  IV.  to 
use  his  influence  to  have  it  adopted.  Sixtus  IV.,  towards 
the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century,  moved  by  the  representa- 
tions made  to  himself  and  to  several  of  his  predecessors, 
invited  Kegiomontanus  to  Eome  to  undertake  the  work  of 
bringing  the  calendar  into  harmony  with  the  course  of  the 
sun.  But  the  sudden  and  premature  death  of  this  celebrated 
astronomer  put  an  end  for  a  time  to  the  hopes  excited  by 
the  action  of  the  Supreme  Pontiff. 

After  the  lapse  of  another  century  Pope  Gregory  XIII. 
definitely  took  in  hand  the  work  of  reforming  the  calendar. 
Now,  as  when  the  Julian  reform  was  introduced,  two  things 
had  to  be  done.  The  accumulated  error  of  past  centuries 
had  to  be  removed,  and  some  effective  means  had  to  be 
found  for  preventing  the  recurrence  of  a  similar  error.  At 
this  time  the  civil  calendar  was  ten  whole  days  in  advance 
of  the  sun.  Consequently  the  vernal  equinox,  so  important 
a  factor  in  the  ecclesiastical  calendar,  fell  on  the  11th  instead 
of  the  21st  of  March.  The  first  problem,  then,  which  had  to 
VOL.  XII.  3  u 


1042  Liturgical  Questions. 

be  solved  was  to  drop  ten  days  out  of  the  year,  so  as  to  restore 
the  vernal  equinox  to  the  day  fixed  by  the  Council  of  Nice. 
The  second  problem  was  to  devise  a  simple  and  workable 
means  of  dropping  three  days  out  of  every  four  centuries  of 
the  Julian  calendar.  For  three  days  in  four  centuries  is 
about  equivalent  to  one  day  in  one  hundred  and  thirty  years  ; 
and  this,  as  we  have  seen,  was  about  the  excess  of  the 
Julian  year  over  the  true  solar  year. 

Pope  Gregory,  by  a  circular  addressed,  in  1577,  to 
Catholic  princes,  and  to  the  Catholic  universities  throughout 
the  world,  asked  the  co-operation  of  the  learned.  Along 
with  this  letter  he  submitted  a  scheme  for  reforming  the 
calendar  drawn  up  by  Aloysius  Lilius,  an  Italian  physician, 
celebrated  for  his  knowledge  of  mathematics ;  and  the  Pontiff 
requested  that  whoever  thought  he  could  improve  on  this 
scheme  should  at  once  forward  his  alternative  scheme,  while 
those  whom  the  scheme  satisfied  should  signify  their  assent. 
The  result  w^as  that  the  scheme  proposed  by  Lilius  was 
adopted.  But  Lilius  had  died  even  before  his  scheme  was 
submitted  to  Gregory,  and  some  one  had,  therefore,  to  be 
found  to  elaborate,  explain,  and  defend  the  methods  and 
tables  required  by  the  scheme.  The  choice  fell  on  Father 
Clavius,  a  learned  member  of  the  Society  of  Jesus,  whose 
work,  Kalendai'ium  Gregoriamim  PerpetuuDi,  containing  a 
full  and  clear  exposition  of  all  the  changes  introduced  by 
the  new  calendar,  was  published  towards  the  end  of  the 
year,  in  the  beginning  of  which  the  calendar  itself  was 
published. 

This  year  was  1582.  On  the  24th  of  February,  Gregory 
XIII.  issued  the  Bull,  Inter  gravissimas,  in  which  the 
adoption  of  the  new  calendar  was  ordered,  a  general  expla- 
nation of  it  given,  and  a  fuller  explanation  promised  to 
follow  in  a  short  time.  This  promise  referred  to  the  work 
of  Clavius  just  mentioned.  The  Pope  disposed  of  the  ten 
days  by  which  the  calendar  had  outstripped  the  sun  from  the 
time  of  the  first  Council  of  Nice,  by  ordering  ten  nominal  days 
to  be  dropped  out  of  the  month  of  October,  1582.  The  day  after 
the  Feast  of  St.  Francis,  which  falls  on  the  4th  of  October, 
was  in  that  year  to  be  called,  not  the  5th,  but  the  15th, 


Liturgical  Questions.  1043 

Hence  the  21st  December,  1582,  became  the  31st  December, 
1582 ;  and,  consequently,  the  22nd  December,  1582,  became 
the  1st  January,  1583  ;  and  the  11th  March,  1583,  became 
the  21st  March,  1583.  Thus  then  was  the  date  on  which  it 
fell  at  the  time  of  the  Council  of  Nice  restored  to  the  vernal 
equinox,  and  thus  was  solved  the  first  of  the  two  problems 
involved  in  the  reformation  of  the  calendar. 

The  remaining  problem,  as  we  have  seen,  was  to  per- 
manently secure  to  the  vernal  equinox  the  possession  of  this 
date.  And  here  is  how  this  problem,  too,  was  solved.  The 
Julian  calendar,  as  has  been  shown,  made  the  year  too  long 
by  something  over  eleven  minutes,  so  that  in  about  one 
hundred  and  thirty  years  the  calendar  would  be  an  entire 
day  in  advance  of  the  sun.  Hence,  had  nothing  been  done 
by  Gregory  to  correct  this  error  the  vernal  equinox  would 
have  got  back  to  the  20th  of  March  about  the  year  1712, 
to  the  19th  about  1840,  and  to  the  18th  about 'l970.  To 
prevent  this  it  was  decreed  that  the  years  1700,  1800,  and 
1900,  though  leap-years,  according  to  the  Julian  calendar, 
should  be  only  common  years  of  three  hundred  and  sixty- 
five  days  in  the  new  calendar.  By  this  means  the  four 
centuries  from  1600  to  2000  are  shorter  by  three  days  in  the 
Gregorian  than  they  would  be  in  the  Julian  calendar,  and 
three  days  in  four  centuries  is,  as  we  have  seen,  as  nearly  as 
possible  the  proportion  in  which  the  average  Julian  year 
exceeded  the  true  solar  year.  Briefly,  then,  and  in  general, 
the  method  adopted  in  the  Gregorian  calendar  to  correct 
the  error  of  the  Julian,  is  to  make  the  century  years,  or  the 
last  year  of  each  century,  which  in  the  Julian  calendar 
would  have  three  hundred  and  sixty-six  days,  common  years 
of  only  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days,  unless  when  they 
are  divisible  by  four  hundred.  The  century  years,  which 
are  also  leap-years,  are,  consequently,  1600,  2000,  2400, 
2800,  &c. 

The  new  calendar  at  once  became  law  in  the  states  over 
which  the  temporal  sovereignty  of  the  Pope  extended, 
as  well  as  in  Spain  and  Portugal.  Hence,  in  these 
countries,  the  new  style  dates  from  October  4th,  1582, 
exclusive,    In  France  the  change  was  adopted  and  sanctioned 


'1044  Liturgical  Questions. 

by  law  in  the  same  year,  and  was  introduced  by  calling  tlie 
10th  December,  1582,  the  20th.  The  Cathohc  States  of 
Germany  adopted  it  in  1584,  Poland  in  1586,  and  Hungary 
in  1587.  But  Protestant  States  for  a  long  time  refused  to 
receive  the  new  calendar  because  it  came  from  the  Pope. 
''  We  cannot  " — to  quote  one  of  their  writers — ''  We  cannot 
receive  anything  from  the  Pope,  who  is  Antichrist,  without 
incurring  the  risk  of  falling  under  his  yoke."  But  at  length, 
in  1700,  they  did  receive  it,  and  as  the  error  in  the  Julian 
calendar  was  then  one  day  more  than  at  the  first  intro- 
duction of  the  Gregorian  reform,  they  dropped  eleven  nominal 
days  out  of  the  month  of  September.  In  England  upwards  of 
fifty  years  were  still  necessary  to  reconcile  the  descendants 
of  the  Covenanters  and  Roundheads  to  this  invention  of 
the  "Scarlet  Woman."  "The  anti-papal  spirit,"  says  an 
impartial  writer,  "  being  much  more  dominant  in  England 
than  common  sense  or  scientific  authority,  the  reform  was 
resisted  for  nearly  two  centuries,  so  that  the  real  had  fallen 
above  eleven  days  behind  the  legal  date  of  the  equinox.  In 
1752,  however,  the  force  of  things  prevailed  over  this 
discreditable  bigotry,  and  the  reform  was  introduced  into 
the  calendar,  by  declaring  the  3rd  to  be  the  14th  of 
September."  In  Russia  the  Julian  calendar  is  still  retained, 
and  consequently  Russian  dates  are  now  twelve  days  behind 
the  corresponding  dates  in  other  Christian  countries.  Thus, 
for  example,  this  day,  which  with  us  is  October  7,  is  in 
Russia  September  25. 

The  Gregorian  calendar  is  called  Neiv  Style,  in  contra- 
distinction to  the  Julian,  which  is  called  Old  Style.  For 
some  years  after  the  introduction  of  the  new  style  into 
England,  it  was  customary  to  give  in  printed  books  the 
dates  of  events  both  in  the  new  and  the  old  style.  Thus, 
for  example,  the  day  which  was  the  20th  May,  1760,  in  the 
new  style,  being  the  9th  May,  1760,  in  the  old,  the  date  was 

9 
printed  thus,  ^q  May,  1760.     And  when  the  change  of  style 

involved  a  change  from  one  month  to  another,  the  date  was 
printed  in  this  manner    t         n>  1760,  the  numerator  of  the 


Liturgical  Questions.  1045 

fraction  giving  always  old  style,  and  the  denominator  new 
sfyle. 

But  new  style,  as  understood  in  England,  implies  a 
further  change  besides  that  occasioned  by  dropping  eleven 
days  to  bring  the  civil  calendar  into  agreement  with  the 
sun.  Up  till  1752,  the  year  in  England  began  on  Lady  Day, 
otherwise  called  the  Feast  of  the  Annunciation,  which  falls 
on  March  25  ;  so  that  March  24,  1750,  was  the  last  day 
of  the  year  1750,  and  the  day  which  immediately  followed 
it  was  March  25,  1751,  and  the  first  day  of  that  year. 
Parliament,  in  resolving  to  adopt  the  Gregorian  reform, 
resolved,  also,  to  date  the  beginning  of  the  year  from  the 
1st  of  January.  Consequently  the  civil  year,  1751,  which 
began  on  March  25,  was  deprived  of  the  entire  months  of 
January  and  February,  and  of  24  days  of  March,  and  made 
to  end  on  December  31.  Hence  the  new  style  changed 
dates  not  only  from  one  month  to  another,  but  also  from 
one  year  to  another.  For  example,  January  25th,  1753,  old 
style,  became  February  5,  1754,  new  style,  and  was  printed 

January  25,  1753 
February  5,  1754  ' 

and  January  1,  1753,   old  style,  became  January  12,  1754, 
new  style,  and  was  printed  as  the  foregoing. 

Traces  of  the  change  of  style,  and  of  the  alterations  in 
the  date  at  which  the  year  begins,  are  still  to  be  found  in 
various  practices,  and  in  the  appellations  of  various  days. 
Thus,  among  the  people,  the  expression,  "Old  May-Day," 
"Old  Hallows'-Day,"  or  "  Old  Hallow-Day,"  as  it  is 
gen-erally  pronounced,  are  very  commonly  used  to  designate 
the  12th  May  and  the  12th  November,  the  dates  in  the  new 
style  corresponding  with  the  1st  May  and  the  1st  November, 
respectively,  in  the  old.  And  these  two  dates  (the  12th  May 
and  the  12th  November),  moreover,  are  in  many  localities, 
the  "  terms "  or  dates  for  entering  into  and  dissolving 
contracts. 


104.6  Liturgical  Questions. 

THE   BLESSED   SACRAMENT   IN    CONVENT   CHAPELS   DURING 
THE    "  TRIDUUM  "    OF   HOLY  WEEK. 

"I.  Is  it  permissible  to  reserve  the  Blessed  Sacrament  in 
convent  chapels  which  enjoy  the  privilege  of  reservation  through- 
out the  year,  during  the  Triduum  of  Holy  Week,  whether  mass 
be  celebrated  in  the  chapel  on  Holy  Thursday  or  not  ?  I  have 
heard  of  a  priest  being  required  by  the  head  priest  of  the  church 
from  which  the  convent  was  served  to  consume  all  particles 
remaining  in  the  ciborium  at  mass  on  Holy  Thursday.  Of  course, 
I  exclude  the  case  where  it  might  be  necessary  to  reserve  for  the 
sick,  on  account  of  great  distance  from  a  public  church." 

THE  USE  OF  A  FORM  FOR  IMPARTING  A  PLENARY 
INDULGENCE. 

**  II.  In  our  faculties  in  this  country  (England)  we  receive 
power,  '  Indulgentiam  plenariam  concedendi  primo  conversis  ab 
haeresi,'  but  no  mention  is  made  of  any  formula  to  be  used  on 
such  occasions. 

''  The  late  Dr.  Grant  in  one  of  his  instructions  to  the  clergy 
suggests  the  use  of  the  formula  approved  by  Benedict  XIV.,  for 
granting  the  Plenary  Indulgence  in  the  hour  of  death. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  if  any  formula  is  required ;  or  is  the  Indul- 
gence gained  ipso  facto,  on  admission  to  the  Church,  provided 
the  priest  has  the  faculty  of  granting  it  ? — •'  Yours  faithfully, 

"  W.  J.  B." 

I.  The  difficulty  raised  by  our  esteemed  correspondent  in 
his  first  question  is  quite  new  to  us,  as  it  will  be,  we  imagine, 
to  most  of  our  readers.  The  rubrics  of  the  Missal  with 
reference  to  those  things  which  may  or  may  not  be  done  in 
churches,  chapels,  and  oratories  during  the  last  three  days 
of  Holy  Week  are  very  explicit,  and  these  rubrics  have 
been  confirmed,  explained,  and  amplified  by  a  large  number 
of  resolutions  of  the  Congregation  of  Eites,  and  by  Pontifical 
decrees  as  well;  but,  so  far  as  we  can  make  out,  the  liceity 
of  preserving  the  Blessed  Sacrament  during  those  days  in 
chapels  or  oratories  where  it  is  customary  to  preserve  it 
at  other  times,  has  never  been  questioned.  Private  masses  are 
forbidden,  with  certain  exceptions,  on  Thursday  and  Satur- 
day of  Holy  Week,  and  absolutely  on  Good  Friday ;    the 


Liturgical  Questions.  1047 

ceremonies  of  this  Triduum  must  be  carried  out  either 
solemnly,  or  according  to  the  method  approved  of  by  Benedict 
XIII. ;  there  are  even  certain  chapels  and  oratories  in  which 
it  is  forbidden  to  employ  this  latter  method  ;  and  finally,  it  is 
unlawful  to  preserve  the  Blessed  Sacrament  during  these 
days  in  chapels  or  oratories  where  it  is  not  usually  preserved. 
Yet,  notwithstanding  these  minute  details  concerning  the 
ceremonies  and  the  custody  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament, 
which  we  find  in  liturgical  works,  not  a  word  do  we  find 
from  which  it  could  be  inferred  that  the  Blessed  Sacrament 
is  to  be  removed  on  Holy  Thursday  from  the  church,  chapel, 
or  oratory  in  which  the  ceremonies  of  Holy  Week  cannot  be, 
or  are  not  carried  out.  We  are,  therefore,  justified  in  inferring 
the  contrary,  and  in  stating  generally  that  it  is  lawful  to 
preserve  the  Blessed  Sacrament  during  the  Triduum  of  Holy 
Week  in  all  places  where  it  is  lawfully  preserved  at  other 
times. 

II.  Not  having  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  a  copy  of 
the  faculties  granted  to  priests  in  England,  we  experience 
some  diffidence  in  replying  to  our  correspondent's  second 
question.  We  will,  however,  state  what  we  think  should 
hold  generally  in  cases  of  this  kind. 

First,  then,  it  would  appear  that  some  form  must  be 
used  ;  that,  consequently,  the  neo-conversus,  by  the  mere 
reception  into  the  Church  does  not  gain  the  indulgence. 
For  if  this  were  the  case,  reception  or  admission  into  the 
Church  would  be  the  condition  for  gaining  the  indulgence, 
and  the  indulgence  would  be  attached  to  the  fulfilment  of 
this  condition,  as  other  indulgences  are  attached  to  the  fulfil- 
ment of  the  conditions  prescribed  for  gaining  them.  But  in 
the  case  before  us  it  appears  that  the  indulgence  is  not 
attached  to  the  performance  of  what  is  necessary  for  recep- 
tion into  the  Church  as  to  a  condition ;  -but  that,  on  the 
contrary,  the  priest  who  receives  the  person  into  the  Church 
is  empowered  to  grant  the  indulgence.  And  manifestly,  in 
order  to  do  this,  he  must  signify  in  some  intelligible  manner 
his  intention  of  doing  it.  In  other  words,  he  must  use  some 
form  of  words  which  will  of  themselves  express  the  nature 
of  the  favour  conferred. 


1048  Liturgical  Questions. 

What  has  just  been  said  may  be  illustrated  and  con- 
firmed from  what  is  prescribed  in  the  case  of  granting  a 
dispensation  in  an  impediment  of  marriage.  When  the 
dispensation  is  granted  in  forma  conmiissoria — the  usual 
form — the  confessor  of  the  person  asking  for  the  dispensation 
is  generally  made  the  channel  through  which  the  dispensation 
is  conveyed.  And  the  dispensation  does  not  take  effect 
until  he  has  communicated  it  by  some  form  of  words  to  his 
penitent.  He  is  free  to  use  a  Latin  form,  such  as  may  be 
found  in  theological  treatises,  or  he  may  express  the  same 
thing  in  the  vernacular.^  But  express  it  he  must  in  some 
form ;  otherwise  the  dispensation  is  not  granted  at  all,  in  the 
formal  sense. 

Some  form,  therefore,  must  be  used ;  and  since  there  is 
lio  special  form  prescribed,  we  are  of  opinion  that,  apart 
from  local  legislation,  no  special  form  is  necessary ;  and, 
therefore,  that  a  priest,  having  the  requisite  faculties,  can 
impart  the  indulgence  in  any  form  expressive  of  the 
act  he  performs;  just  as,  in  the  example  cited,  the  confessor 
can  impart  the  dispensation  in  any  intelligible  form.  But 
wherever  the  bishop  of  the  place  has  directed  the  use  of  a 
certain  form,  respect  for  his  authority  requires  that  it,  and 
it  alone,  should  be  employed;  though,  of  course,  he  could 
not  make  the  use  of  a  given  form  a  sine  qua  non,  or  an 
essential  condition  of  the  indulgence. 

The  formula  mentioned  by  our  correspondent  would 
seem  to  do  as  well  as  any  other,  though  there  are  certain 
words  in  it  which  suit  only  the  case  for  which  the  formula 
was  intended.  If  this  formula  be  used,  we  think  it  will 
suffice  to  begin  with  the  words,  Dominus  noster  Jesus 
Chris  tus. 

From  the  Appendix  to  the  Koman  EituaP  we  take  the 


"  *  .  .  .  Quapropter  tunc  impcdiinentem  aufertur  quando  coufessarius 
id  poenitenti  aliquo  modo  indicat  seu  pronuntiat."  Lehmkiihl,  v.  2, 
n.  818,  iv. 

r  2  Page  207,  ed.  Pustet,  1881.  This  formula  was  used  for  granting  a 
Plenary  Indulgence  to  Franciscan  Tertiaries.  In  1882  another  form  was 
prescribed  for  this  purpose,  and  for  this  purpose  must  be  employed.  Brief 
of  Leo  XIII.,  July  7,  1882. 


Correspondence.  1049 

following  formula  for  granting  a  plenary  indulgence,  with  its 
rubric : — 

^^  In  Sede  Confessional%  Confessarms  hanc  hrcvibrem  formulam 
met  similem  aliam  adhibere  potest. 
**  Auctoritate  apostolica,  mihi  in  hac  parte  commissa,  absolve 
te  ab  omnibus  peccatis  tuis  in  quantum  possum,  et  restituo  te 
Sacramentis  Ecclesiae,  et  consedo  tibi  Indulgentiam  plenariam. 
In  nomine  Patris  '^  et  Filii,  et  Sx^iritus  Sancti.     x\men." 

This  would  be  a  very  convenient  form  for  the  purpose 
about  which  our  correspondent  inquires,  and  we  beg  to 
call  attention  to  the  words  of  the  rubric  printed  at  the  head 
of  it.  The  words  aut  similem  aliam  bear  out  what  has  been 
said  regarding  the  liberty  of  selecting  any  suitable  form.  A 
still  shorter  form  is  used  for  granting  a  plenary  indulgence 
to  the  members  of  the  third  Order  of  St.  Francis  when 
circumstances  render  the  use  of  the  longer  form  inconvenient : 

"Auctoritate  a  summis  Pontificibus  mihi  concessa  plenariam 
omniun  peccatorum  tuorum  Indulgentiam  tibi  impertior.  In 
nomine  Patris  et  Filii  ^  et  Spiritus  Sancti,  Ainen.'" 

D.  O'LOAN. 


Correeponbence. 

THE   PRYMER. 

*'  Sir,- — I  am  indebted  to  you  for  the  able  and  generous  review 
of  my  book,  The  Prymer,  in  your  last  issue. 

''Will  you  permit  me  to  add  to  that  notice,  the  following  rough 
collation  of  four  MS.  Prymers,  when  I  think  that,  supposing  my 
book  to  be  altered  to  bring  it  into  conformity  with  the  results  of 
this  collation,  we  may  possibly  be  in  possession  of  the  mediaeval 
prayer-book.  For  such  a  purpose  we  must,  however,  omit  all 
matter  preceding  the  Hours,  and  all  that  following  the  Com- 
mendations.— I  am.  Sir,  your  obedient  Servant, 

"Henry  LiTTLEHALES." 

Em. — Emmanuel  College  Prymer,  Cambridge.  --* 

C.U. — Cambridge  University  Library. 

699.  Eawlinson,  C.  699. — Bodleian  Library,  Oxford, 

S.J.— St.  John's  College,  Cambridge. 

1  Beringer,  S.J.,  torn.  2,  page  420. 


1050  Correspondence. 

Page  17.  699  substitutes  *  God  make  me  safe,'  in  place  of 
'  Praise  ye  the  Lord.' 

Page  20.  C.U.  omits  the  Hail  Mary ;  but  the  omission  is 
probably  unintentional,  for  all  the  other  thirteen  MSS.  give  it. 

Page  28.  In  place  of  *  Show  to  us  Thy  mercy,  and  give  us  Thy 
health,'  C.U.  and  699  have  *  Lord  God  of  virtue,  convert  us,  and 
show  to  us  Thy  face,  and  we  shall  be  safe.' 

Page  30.  C.U  ,  Em.,  and  699  substitute  the  Lord's  Prayer  for 
the  Hail  Mary  at  the  commencement  of  Prime. 

Page  33.  C.U.,  Em.,  and  699  omit  '  Show  to  us,  Lord,  Thy 
mercy,  and  give  us  Thine  health.' 

Em.  omits  the  Hail  Mary,  but  C.U.  substitutes  for  it  the 
Lord's  Prayer. 

Page  34.  Preceding  the  Memento,  C.U.  and  Em.  give  the 
Veni  Creator. 

Page  35.  C.U.,  Em.,  and  699  omit  '  Show  to  us,  Lord,  Thy 
mercy,  and  give  us  Thine  health.' 

Page  36.  Em.  omits  the  Hail  Mary,  but  for  it  C.  CJ.  substitutes 
the  Lord's  Prayer. 

699  omits  *  Praise  ye  the  Lord.' 

C.U.,  Em.,  and  699  give  Veni  Creator  before  the  Memento. 

Page  38.  C.U.,  Em.,  and  699  omit  '  Show  to  us,  Lord,  Thy 
mercy,  and  give  us  Thine  health.' 

Page  39.  699  omits  the  Hail  Mary,  but  for  it  C.Q.  substitutes 
the  Lord's  Prayer. 

C.U.,  Em.  and  699  give  Veni  Creator  before  the  Memento. 

Page  41.  C.U.,  Em.  and  699  omit  '  Show  to  us,  Lord,  Thy 
mercy,  and  give  us  Thine  health.' 

C.U.,  Em.,  and  699  omit  all  following  'joys  of  paradise,'  to 
the  end  of  page  42. 

Page  43; 

All  three  have  the  usual  commencement,  '  God,  take  heed,'  &c. 

All  three  '  Praise  ye  the  Lord.' 

All  three  *  Laetatus  sum.' 
Ad  te  levavi.' 

Page  46.  C.U.,  Em.,  and  699  omit  '  Veni  sancte  spiritus,'  and 
all  following  up  to  the  conclusion  of  '  Deus  a  Quo,'  on  page  47. 

Page  48.  699  has  the  Lord's  Prayer  preceding  Compline,  and 
omits  '  Praise  ye  the  Lord.' 

Page  51.  After  '  joys  of  paradise,'  699  gives  the  Lord's  Prayer. 

C.U.  and  Em.  omit  all  between  '  passed  hence    and  *  Oro.' 


Correspo7idence.  1051 

After  the  concluding  prayer,  '  Omnipotens  sempiterne  Deus,' 
C.U.,  Em.,  and  699  give  all  from  '  Ave  Eegina,'  on  page  41,  to  the 
nd  of  the  Lord's  Prayer,  on  page  42,  concluding  with  : — 
'  And  lead  us  not  into  temptation, 
But  deliver  us  from  evil. 
Everlasting  rest,  Lord,  give  to  them, 
And  perpetual  light  shine  to  them. 
From  the  gates  of  hell, 
Lord  deliver  the  souls  of  them. 
I  believe  to  see  the  goodes  of  the  Lord 
In  the  land  of  living  men." 

C.U.  *  Lord,  hear  my  prayer,         699  and  Em.  '  Eest   they  in 
and  let  my  cry  come  to  Thee.'        peace.' 

Em.     and     C.U.    -Fidelium  699  Lost. 

Deus.'     See  page  74. 

C.U.  '  The  souls  of  all  faith- 
ful dead  men,  by  the  mercy  of 
God,  rest  they  in  peace  of  Jesu 
Christ.  So  be  it.  Bless  ye 
the  Lord.' 

Page  58.  Em  has  at  the  conclusion  of  the  Seven  Psalms,  '  Lord, 
have  no  mind  of  our  guilts  or  of  our  kindred,  neither  take  Thou 
vengeance  of  our  sins  for  Thy  name.' 

Page  65.  The  Litany  does  not  materially  differ. 

Page  69.  699  omits  the  prayer  '  Omnipotens,'  the  omission 
being  probably  an  error,  for  all  other  MSS.  have  it. 

Page  73.  The  MSS.,  without  exception,  place  'InclinaDomine' 
before  *  Deus  Qui  patrem.' 

Page  74.  699  and  C.U.  omit  'Fidelium  Deus.' 

Page  77.  C.U.  and  Em.  omit  the  Hail  Mary. 

Page  86.  C.U.  and  Em.  omit  the  Hail  Mary. 

Page  88.  Conclusion  of  the  Matins  not  quite  clear. 

Page  91,  699  and  C-U.  omit  *  Deus  misereatur.' 

Page  93.  699  and  Em.  omit  'Cantate  Domino  and  Laudate 
Dominum.' 

Page  94.  C.U.,  Em.,  and  699  omit  the  Hail  Mary. 

Page  95.  C.U .  omits  '  Eest  they  in  peace.  Amen,'  probably  in 
error ;  all  MSS.  give  it.     No  Commendations  in  699. 

Page  103.  C.U.,  and  Em.  omit  the  Hail  Mary. 

"  Clovelly,  Bexley  Heath, 

'*  Kent,  dth  September,  1891." 


ri:>!.  [  1052  ] 

"©ocuments- 


The  S.  Congee gation  de  Peopagande  Fide. 

peivileges  geanted  to  those  who  take  paet  in  helping 
the    association    foe    the    peopagation    of    the 

FAITH. 

Bme  Pater, 
:  Praesides  Consiliorum  centialium  Operis  a  propagatione 
Fidei,  humiliter  provoluti  ad  pedes  Sanctitatis  Yestrae,  instanter 
implorant,  ut  concedere  in  perpetuum  dignetur  privilegia  et  facul- 
tates  sequentes  Sacerdotibus  addictis  eidexn  Gperi  modis  qui 
sequuntur,  videlicet  : —  •. ...   '.',- 

I.  Unicuique  Sacerdoti,  qui  onus  habeat  in  qualibet  Paroecia 
aut  in  quolibet  institute,  eleemosynas  colligendi  favore  Operis  a 
Propagatione  Fidei,  quaelibet  aliunde  sit  vis  pecuniae  coUectae, 
aut  qui  proprio  aere  exhibeat  Operi  vim  pecuniae  pro  decern 
sociis  :  — 

1.  Altare  privilegiatum  ter  in  qualibet  hebdomada  : 

2.  Facultatem  applicandi  sequentes  indulgentias :  pro  fideli- 
bus  in  articulo  mortis  constitutis  indulgentiam  plenariam  ;  coronis 
precatoriis  seu  rosariis,  crucibus,  crucifixis,  sacris  imaginibus, 
statuis  parvis  et  numismatibus  indulgentias  apostolicas,  coronis 
precatoriis  indulgentias  s.  Birgittae. 

3.  Facultatem  adiungendi  crucifixis  indulgentias  Viae-Crucis. 
II.    Culibet    Sacerdoti,  qui    pertineat    ad   Consilium  vel   ad 

comitatum  on eratuni  ad  Operis  negotia  gerenda,  etc. 

Cullibet  Sacerdoti,  qui  in  anni  circulum  exhibuerit  in  capsam 
Operis  summam  pecuniae,  quae  saltern  aequet  vim  pecuniae, 
quam  mille  offerreiit  socii,  quaelibet,  aliunde,  esset  origo  huius 
pecuniae. 

"     1.  Eadem  privilegia  concessa  sacerdotibus  praecedentis  ordi- 
nis: 

2.  Altara  privilegiatum  quinquies  in  hebdomada  : 
'       3:  Privilegium   benedicendi  cruces   cum  indulgentia  concedi 
solita    exercitio  viae-crucis ;    et   insuper  facultatem   imponendi 
chordas  et  scapularia  s.  Francisci  cum  indulgentiis  et  privilegiis 
concedi  solitis  per  rr.  Pontifices,  huic  impositioni : 


Notices  of  Books.  1053 

4.  Faeultateni  benedicendi  et  imponendi  fidelibus  sacra  sca- 
pularia  Montis  Carmeli,  Immaculatae  Conceptionis  et  Passionis 
lesu  Christi  Domini  Nostri. 

Casu  autem  quo  surama  pecuniae  colligenda,  baud  esset, 
momento  temporis,  plena,  dicti  Praesides  implorant  a  Sanctita^e 
Vestra  prorogationem  facultatum  favore  Presbyteri  illius  qui 
exhibuerit  integram  summam  praecedentis  anni,  usque  ad  exitum 
exercitii  currentis. 

III.  Quilibet  Sacerdos,  qui  una  vice  exhibuerit,  de  proprio 
aere,  earn  pecuniae  vim  quae  aequet  summam  mille  sociorum,  ius 
habet,  pro  suae  vitae  tempore,  adprivilegiaconcessa  sacerdotibus, 
qui  Gonsilii  membra  sunt.  .''•''  '-"^ 

Ex  audientia  SSmi  habita  die  5  August,  1889.  •;  - ;  r 

SSmus  Dominus  Noster  Leo  divina  Providentia  PP.  XIII., 
r^ferente  me  infrascripto  Archiepiscopo  Tyren.,  S.  Congregationis 
de  Propaganda  Fide  Secretario,  expetitas  extensiones  indulgen- 
tiarum  concedere  dignatus  est,  easque  in  perpetuum  pio  Operi 
tribuit,  excepta  facultate  benedicendi  coronas,  quam  non  ultra 
quinquennium  concessit. 

Datum  Bomae  ex  aedibus  dictae  S.  Congregationis  die  et  anno 
ut  supra. 

Pro  E.  P.  D.,  Secretario. 
Phillipus  Toeroni,  subsiitut^is. 


IRoticea  of  Booh0* 


Whither    Goest    Thou  ?    or,    Was    Father    Mathew 

Eight  ?     Notes  on  Intemperance,  Scientific  and  Moral. 

By  Kev.  J.  C.  MacErlain.     Dublin  :  Browne  and  Nolan. 

1891. 

The  author  of  this  extremely  able  indictment  of  alcohol  has 
been  for  years,  both  in  this  country  and  in  the  United  States,  one 
of  the  most  active  and  devoted  advocates  of  total  abstinence. 
On  the  very  threshold  of  his  missionary  life,  he  was  brought  face 
to  face  with  the  demon  of  intemperance,  and  his  heart  at  first 
sank  within  him  before  the  apparently  hopeless  task  of  casting 
him  from  the  throne  on   which  he  had    succeeded  in  seating 


1054  Notices  of  Books. 

himself  so  securely.  But  the  cruel  degradation  of  mind  and  body  to 
which  this  tyrant  reduced  his  slaves,  and  still  more  the  appalling 
spiritual  calamities  he  inflicted  on  them,  fired  the  young  priest's 
heart  and  nerved  his  arm  ;  and,  like  another  David,  he  went  forth 
to  meet  his  gigantic  foe,  trusting  in  God  to  give  him  the  victory. 
And  God  did  not  desert  him.  The  eye  that  guided,  and  the  arm 
that  strengthened  the  hand  of  David,  gave  direction  and  force  to 
the  efforts  of  the  young  temperance  advocate.  Drunkenness 
disappeared,  the  tyranny  of  intemperance  ceased,  and  in  its  stead 
the  mild  sway  of  total  abstinence  was  established.  And  no  sooner 
had  he  succeeded  in  emancipating  the  people  of  one  district  from 
this  degrading  slavery,  than  that  Providence  who  has  numbered 
the  hairs  of  our  head,  and  without  whose  knowledge  and  will  not 
even  the  tiniest  flower  blooms  or  dies,  ordained  that  he  should 
gird  himself  against  his  old  foe  on  a  new  battle-field,  and  free 
another  district  from  his  ignominious  yoke. 

Having  spent  several  years  at  home  in  this  close  and  cease- 
less conflict,  under  the  banner  of  total  abstinence,  Father 
MacErlain  transferred  his  services  to  the  "  children  of  the  disper- 
sion," among  whom  he  was  aware  intemperance  was  creating  havoc 
still  more  hideous  than  among  those  that  remained  in  Ireland. 
In  the  United  States,  he  pushed  on  with  vigour  the  relentless  war 
he  had  long  before  declared  against  intemperance  and  against  all 
its  works  and  pomps.  From  the  pulpit,  from  the  platform,  and 
through  the  press,  he  denounced  in  burning  words  the  folly,  the 
madness,  the  blood-guiltiness,  the  soul-guiltiness  of  excessive 
indulgence  in  alcoholic  drinks,  and  pictured,  in  moving  language, 
the  horrible  and  ghastly  scenes  hourly  enacted  under  the  iron  rule 
of  this  most  degrading  of  all  vices. 

With  a  view  to  bringing  the  results  of  an  experience  at  once  so 
extensive  and  so  varied  within  the  reach  of  the  largest  number 
possible.  Father  MacErlain  has  put  together  the  "  Notes  "  which 
make  up  the  present  volume.  The  book  is  divided  into  two  parts. 
The  first  deals  with  the  physiological  and  pathological  aspects  of 
intemperance  ;  the  second,  with  the  moral  aspect.  In  the  first 
part,  the  author  establishes  with  terrible  conclusiveness,  the  fear- 
ful power  of  alcohol,  as  an  agent  of  mental  and  bodily  disease. 
•  From  the  testimony  of  the  best  medical  authorities,  on  both  sides 
of  the  Atlantic,  he  proves  that  alcohol  "  kills  men  and  women 
wholesale,  sending  some  to  the  grave  straightway,  and  some  to 
the  grave  through  that  living  grave — the  asylum  for  the  insane," 


Notices  of  Books.  1055 

•We  specially  recommend  this  first  part,  not  because  it  is  better 
treated  than  the  second,  but  because  we  have  for  a  long  time 
believed  that  were  the  conclusions  arrived  at  by  medical  science 
regarding  the  abuse  of  alcohol  made  thoroughly  familiar  to  the 
public,  this  knowledge  would  prove  a  more  effective  obstacle  to 
the  spread  of  intemperance  than  anything  that  has  yet  been 
devised.  For  this  reason,  we  could  have  wished  that  Father 
MacErlain  had  drawn  somewhat  more  largely  on  the  piles  of 
statistics  and  medical  reports,  of  which  he  has  given  us  specimens. 
He  has,  however,  given  enough  to  convince  any  impartial  mind  of 
the  frightful  evils  which  the  victims  of  intemperance  must  undergo 
even  in  this  world. 

It  is  in  the  second  part,  however,  that  the  author  shows  to 
greatest  advantage.  Here  the  moral  aspect  of  intemperance  is 
placed  under  review  ;  and  we  could  wish,  for  the  sake  of  God,  and 
of  the  human  race,  that  our  author's  arguments  were  less  con- 
vincing and  his  facts  less  authenticated.  But,  unfortunately,  we 
,  must  admit  the  force  of  the  one  and  the  truth  of  the  other  ;  and 
when  we  have  realized  the  awful  conclusion  towards  which  both 
converge,  unless  we  are  devoid  of  all  piety  and  all  pity,  from  our 
hearts,  crushed  with  the  weight  of  the  crimes  against  God,  and 
of  our  broijher's  woes  caused  by  intemperance,  will  ascend  to  God 
an  ardent  prayer,  that  He  will  remove  the  hideous  thing  from 
amongst  us ;  and  in  these  same  hearts  will  be  formed  a  strong 
resolution  to  strive  by  word  and  example  to  save  our  brothers  and 
sisters  who  perish  eternally  by  this  fatal  soul-poison . 

On  page  103,  are  quoted  some  words  from  the  Epistle  to  Titus, 
as  follows  :--"  Speak  thou  the  things  that  become  sound  doctrine ; 
that  the  aged  men  be  sober,  .  .  .  that  they  may  teach  the 
young  women  to  be  discreet,  chaste,  sober."  Now,  from  the 
manner  in  which  these  words  are  here  given,  one  would  infer  that 
St.  Paul,  contrary  to  his  usual  custom,  appointed  the  aged  men 
to  be  teachers  of  the  young  women  ;  whereas,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
it  was  to  the  aged  women  that  he  much  more  appropriately 
allotted  this  task.  We  would  suggest  then,  that  in  the  next 
edition  St.  Paul's  meaning  should  be  made  clear  by  some  such 
arrangement  of  the  words  as  this — **  Speak  thou  the  things  that 
become  sound  doctrine;  that  the  aged  men  be  sober,  chaste, 
prudent.  .  .  .  The  aged  women  in  like  manner  .  .  .  that 
they  may  teach  the  young  women  .  .  .  to  he  discreet,  chaste, 
sober,"    Do  we  owe  "  behooves,"  which  occurs  on  page  104,  to  the 


1056  Notices  oj  Books. 

-new  American  spelling  or  to  a  careless  type-SBtter.?  And -lastly, 
is  not  the  following  metaphor  (page  145)  slightly  mixed? — '"The 
cities  are  simply  rum-ridden  by  a  Niagara  of  beer,  ales,  and 
liquors,  that  sm'passes  all  imagination,  even  in  her  wildest 
flights."     The  italics  are,  of  com^se,  ours. 

We  are  glad  to  see  that  the  press  of  all  shades  of  opinion,  in 
this  country  as  in  America,  advocates  the  spread  of  this  book. 
We  desire  to  join  our  feeble  voice  to  this  great  concert  of  praise 
which  it  has  evoked,  and  we  heartily  wish  its  mission  as  much 
success  as  the  learning,  ability,  and  zeal  of  its  author  deserve. 
We  should  add,  that  in  this  edition  are  printed  several  highly 
complimentary  letters,  written  to  the  author  by  eminent  American 
prelates  in  acknowledging  the  receipt  of  copies  of  the  first 
edition. 

Sermons  for  Sundays  and  Festivals.     By  James  Canon 
Griffin.     London  :  K.  Washbourne,  18  Paternoster-row. 

This  is  a  useful  addition  to  our  books  of  English  sermons. 
They  would,  perhaps,  be  more  properly  styled  plain  homely 
lectures  than  sermons.  Though  short — few  of  them  exceed  six 
pages — they  are  very  practical  and  instructive.  The  style  is 
somewhat  heavy,  particularly  in  some  of  them,  but  the  language 
■  is  simple  and  intelligible  for  all ;  and  there  are  no  attempts  at 
•rhetorical  effect,  nor  is  there  any  waste  of  space  on  mere  verbal 
eloquence.  They  would  be  valuable  either  for  spiritual  reading 
or  would  afford  good  matter  for  short  homilies. 

Two    Spiritual  Ketreats    for  Sisters.    By  Eev.   Ev. 

Trollner.     Translated  by  Eev.  A.  Wirth,  O.S.B.     New 

York  :  Fr.  Pustet. 
It  happens  from  time  to  time  in  a  convent  that  a  nun  has  to 
make  a  retreat  for  herself,  and  of  course  without  the  assistance  of 
a  preacher.  Even  sometimes  a  community  is  not  able  to  secure 
a  priest  to  conduct  the  exercises  of  the  annual  retreat,  or  of  the 
retreat  usual  at  the  end  of  the  year.  In  such  cases  the  book 
mentioned  above  will  be  found  to  be  a  useful  substitute  for  the 
preacher.  The  meditations  are  special  to  religious,  and  are  models 
of  order  and  clearness.  Their  vows  and  duties  form  the  subjects 
of  the  ■  considerations,  and  are  treated  in  a  solid  and  practical 
way.  '  '     ' 


THE  IRISH 

ECCLESIASTICAL  EECORD. 


DECEMBEB,   1891. 


''ANIMA  DEO   UNITA." 

"  Creata  est  anima  a  Deo  ;  vita  a  Vita  ;  simplex  a  Simplici ; 
immortalis  ab  Immortaii ;  magna  a  Magno  ;  recta  a  Eecto  ;  eo 
magna,  quo  capax  aeternormn ;  eo  recta  quo  appetens  superno- 
rum  ;  eo  beata,  quo  Deo  unita  " — St.  Augustin. 

THE  smallest  trivialities  suffice  to  amuse  and  entertain  a 
child,  because  its  mind  is  too  feeble  and  undeveloped 
to  grasp  the  great  questions  that  are  ever  agitating  the 
world.  A  rattle  or  a  penny  trumpet  will  occupy  its  entire 
attention,  and  it  will  be  quite  content  to  while  away  its  time, 
digging  in  the  sand  with  a  wooden  spade,  or  erecting 
imaginary  castles  and  palaces  with  packs  of  cards.  One 
may  speak  to  it  of  bloody  encounters  on  land  and  sea  ;  one 
may  apprise  it  of  events  entailing  the  ruin  of  a  nation  or  the 
disgrace  of  a  people  ;  one  may  describe  the  disintegration  or 
total  destruction  of  an  empire  ;  but  it  signifies  little.  So  long 
as  one  does  not  seize  its  playthings,  nor  shatter  its  toy- 
house,  one  will  scarcely  trouble  the  infant,  or  even  chase 
away  the  smile  of  joy  from  its  face.  It  will  continue  its 
play  with  undistracted  glee.  The  grown-up  man,  on  the 
contrary,  can  no  longer  find  any  pleasure  or  interest  in  the 
playthings  of  a  child.  His  mind  is  too  full  of  wider,  deeper, 
and  more  momentous  thoughts — perhaps  involving  the 
welfare  of  his  country  or  the  peace  of  the  world. 

Now,  from  a  spiritual  point  of  view,  the  great  masses  of  man- 
kind closely  resemble  children  playing  upon  the  sand.  They, 
too,  occupy  themselves  in  trivialities.     The  present  moment 
VOL.  XII.  3  X 


1058  ''  Anima  Deo  TJnitay 

absorbs  their  attention.  All  their  thoughts,  all  their  desires, 
are  centred  on  the  passing  and  unstable  things  of  time. 
Some  deliver  themselves  up,  body  and  soul,  to  money-makingj 
and  are  wholly  preoccupied  in  adding  field  to  field  and  house 
to  house,  much  as  the  child  collects  shells,  or  throws  up 
mounds  of  sand,  to  be  scattered  by  the  fast  incoming  tide. 
Others  engage  themselves  in  seeking  honours,  distinctions, 
and  decorations,  and  will  lend  an  ear  to  the  praise  and 
flattery  of  men,  with  the  same  self-satisfied  contentment 
with  which  a  child  will  allow  itself  to  be  beguiled  by  the 
sound  of  a  rattle,  or  the  hum  of  a  top. 

The  world,  the  pleasures  of  the  world,  the  riches  of  the 
world,  the  honour,  the  distinctions,  the  glory,  and  the  appro- 
bation of  the  world — such  things  gain  possession  of  the 
hearts  of  the  multitude.  Perishable  goods,  fleeting  pleasures, 
transitory  fame ;  the  glitter  and  the  glare,  the  gilt  and  the 
tinsel,  the  meteoric  splendours  and  phosphorescent  glory  of 
the  vain  frivolous  world  engross  them,  occupy  them, 
interest  them,  excite  them,  control  them,  tyrannize  over 
them,  provoke  their  passions,  stimulate  their  greed,  arouse 
their  desires,  and  drive  them  to  the  very  ends  of  the  earth 
in  hot  eager  pursuit  of  fleeting  shadows  and  bursting 
bubbles ! 

Children,  every  one  !  Infants  playing  with  their  toys — 
foolish,  unreflecting,  unreasoning — ready  to  start  off  in  pursuit 
of  every  painted  butterfly  that  chance  sends  fluttering  and 
flittering  across  their  sunlit  path — children  who  refuse  to  be 
distracted  or  disturbed  by  anything  of  true  importance. 
The  deepest  problems  of  life,  the  momentous  q^uestions  of  a 
future  state,  the  solemn  and  all-important  facts  of  the  eternal 
and  invisible  world,  awake  no  interest.  Speak  in  the  most 
persuasive  tones  of  the  most  sublime  and  awful  truths  that 
can  occupy  the  heart  of  man ;  of  crimes  that  will  re-echo 
through  endless  ages  ;  of  wounds  which  eternity  itself  cannot 
heal ;  of  millions  upon  millions  of  sensitive  human  beings 
descending  into  the  inextinguishable  lake  of  fire  ;  of  a  heaven 
to  be  won,  and  a  hell  to  be  avoided — yes,  speak  on;  ''  cry, 
cease  not,  lift  up  thy  voice  like  a  trumpet  ;"  and  behold, 
they  play  on  with  the  gewgaws  and  trumperies  of  life,  as 


''  Anima  Deo  Unita.''  1059 

deaf  and  as  unheeding  as  plays  the  unreasoning  child  when 
you  tell  him  that  cities  burn  and  nations  perish. 

To  a  man  of  vivid  faith  there  is  nothing  so  Extraordinary 
or  so  appalling  as  the  apathy,  indifference,  and  insensibility 
of  worldly-minded  men  to  all  that  is  most  vital  and 
significant,  most  essential  and  paramount.  The  saints  of 
God,  though  in  many  respects  like  to  us,  and  moulded  out 
of  the  same  clay,  seem  to  live  and  move  in  a  wholly  different 
world.  They  looked  beyond  the  present  into  the  far-away 
future.  The  riches  and  honours  and  glory  of  the  world  were, 
no  doubt,  spread  out  and  flaunted  before  them  as  before  us. 
These  things  they  indeed  beheld,  as  they  beheld  the  crimson 
and  golden  clouds  floating  in  the  western  sky — beautiful,  if 
you  will — yea,  gorgeous  beyond  all  comparison ;  but  perishable 
and  passing,  and  unworthy  of  more  than  a  momentary 
glance.  Such  coveted  objects  came  to  tempt  the  saints  as 
they  came  to  tempt  others,  but  without  success.  They 
heeded  them  not,  but  brushed  them  aside  without  a  sigh. 
Their  thoughts  were  too  much  taken  up  with  more  important 
matters  to  heed  such  puerile  distractions — too  much  pre- 
occupied with  the  great  and  eternal  truths ;  with  heaven  and 
its  unfading  glory,  its  never-ending  delights,  its  enduring  and 
ineffable  peace  ;  with  hell  and  its  quenchless  fires,  its  undying 
worm  of  remorse,  its  ceaseless,  changeless,  pitiless  woe  and 
misery.  How  could  a  saint  become  captivated  or  ensnared 
by  earthly  joys,  whose  eyes  were  ever  riveted  on  the  joys  of 
heaven  ?  How  could  he  be  terrorized  or  coerced  by  thought 
of  earthly  pains  or  worldly  shame,  or  in  any  way  swayed  by 
the  scorn  or  hate  of  men,  whose  mind  was  ever  contem- 
plating the  terrors  of  the  lost,  and  the  shame  and  torments 
and  never-ending  despair  of  the  stygian  pit?  No.  The 
earth  beneath  his  feet  must  ever  remain  a  poor  and  con- 
temptible object  to  one  whose  innermost  thoughts  are 
habitually  fixed  on  the  everlasting  throne  of  the  infinite 
God.  To  one  who  has  heard ' '  the  voice  of  the  Beloved,  leaping 
over  the  mountains,  skipping  over  the  hills,"  the  praises  and 
adulation  of  the  crowds  must  ever  sound  empty  as  the 
murmurs  of  the  idle  wind,  meaningless  as  the  soughing 
of  the   restless  sea;  while  the  glory  of  the   world,   when 


1060  ''  Anima  Deo  TJnitar 

compared  with  the  splendours  of  the  heavenly  palaces,  can 
never  seem  more  than  the  finery  and  pageantry  of  a  village  fair. 

In  a  word,  a  saint  lives  and  moves  among  realities,  while 
other  men  live  and  move  among  shadows,  phantoms,  and 
empty  shows.  A  man  of  God  apprises  all  things  at  their 
just  value.  He  scans  the  entire  earth  ;  his  eagle  glance 
sweeps  from  pole  to  pole,  and  his  subtle  and  penetrating  eye 
at  once  perceives  that  in  the  midst  of  such  an  overwhelming 
variety  of  objects  but  one  is  truly  valuable  ;  but  one  stands 
out  peerless  and  without  a  rival.  "  On  earth,"  he  exclaims 
with  the  poet,  "  there  is  nothing  great  but  man  ;  in  man  there 
is  nothing  great  but  mind  :"  or,  let  us  rather  say,  soul. 

The  soul !  A  smgle  soul — the  soul  of  the  merest  child, 
of  a  poor,  ignorant,  ragged,  deformed,  outcast  child,  the 
poorest  and  lowliest  throughout  all  London — is,  indeed,  worth 
more  than  towns  and  cities,  and  all  that  they  contain ;  worth 
more  than  thrones  and  dynasties,  kingdoms  and  empires ; 
yea,  more  than  glowing  sun  and  glistening  moon,  and 
the  countless  host  of  diamond  stars  glimmering  and 
sparkling  on  the  brow  of  night,  and  quiring  to  the 
cherubim!  Of  all  created  things  on  earth,  the  soul 
alone  lives  a  charmed  life.  It  alone  is  immortal  and 
imperishable.  All  else  must  pass :  all  else  must  fall  and 
fade  and  cease  to  be.  The  hardest  rock,  the  toughest  metal, 
the  firmest  wall  of  adamant,  must  crumble  away.  Weak- 
ness, frailty,  change,  dissolution,  decay,  and  death  !  Ah  ! 
these  are  words  clearly  inscribed  and  engraved  by  the 
hand  of  Omnipotence  on  everything  around  us  and  about 
us.  The  soul  is  the  only  exception.  It,  and  it  alone,  sur- 
vives them  all.  It  will  endure  ;  it  will  never  pass  away. 
Nations  will  come  and  go ;  dynasties  will  rise  and  fall ;  the 
mountains  will  be  broken  into  pieces  ;  the  seas  will  evaporate 
and  disappear ;  the  earth  itself  will  dissolve;  the  very  stars 
shall  fall  from  heaven  ;  all  creation  will  sway  and  totter  to 
its  ruin ;  the  entire  universe  shall  be  gathered  up  like  a 
scroll :  but  in  the  midst  of  the  general  destruction  and 
universal  change,  the  soul  will  retain  its  youth  and  beauty, 
and  never,  never  know  corruption. 

The  soul  !     Oh,  who  will  endow  us  with  power  to  under- 


''AnimaBeo  TJnitar  1061 

stand  its  worth  and  dignity  !  Who  will  furnish  us  with  the 
means  of  portraying,  even  in  a  limited  degree,  its  exquisite 
grace  and  unrivalled  loveliness  !  Impossible  in  this  life ! 
To  understand  the  loveliness  of  the  soul,  we  must  understand 
the  loveliness  of  God,  for  to  His  image  and  likeness  it  is 
made.  All  things,  of  course,  babble  in  an  inarticulate 
manner  of  Him  who  made  them.  The  wide-stretching 
ocean  fills  our  ears  with  distant  murmurs  of  His  immensity  ; 
the  soft-scented  summer's  breath  discourses  of  His  gentle- 
ness ;  the  scintillating  stars  emit  subdued  glimpses  of  His 
beauty ;  and  the  tropical  noon-day  sun,  as  it  sets  the  heavens 
in  a  blaze,  seems  to  reflect  something  of  His  magnificence. 

Nature  in  all  its  moods,  and  poetry  and  art,  music  and 
song,  in  all  their  varied  forms  and  infinite  expressions,  seem 
to  lisp  His  name  ;  while  earth  and  sky  utter  His  praises  and 
show  forth  Plis  wondrous  perfections.  True.  Yet  not  one 
of  these — no,  nor  even  all  these  put  together — can  tell  us  as 
much  of  God  as  could  a  single  human  soul  in  grace,  were 
we  but  able  to  contemplate  it  in  itself,  and  to  understand 
and  see  it  in  its  very  essence,  as  we  may  one  day  hope  to  do 
in  our  home  of  light  above. 

Put  all  the  visible  creation  on  one  side.  Add  world  to 
world,  and  universe  to  universe,  till  mind  grows  weary  and 
senses  fail ;  place  these  accumulations  of  wealth  and  beauty 
on  one  side  of  the  balance  ;  and  on  the  other  lay  but  a  single 
soul,  clothed  with  the  garment  of  grace.  It  will  outweigh 
them  all.  For,  as  theologians  teach,  "  Bonum  gratiae 
unius,  majus  est  quam  bonum  naturae  totius  universi." 

God  became  incarnate  for  the  sake  of  souls.  The  least 
soul  has  been  purchased  by  the  life-blood  of  an  Infinite 
Being.  There  is  nothing  of  such  value.  In  fact,  as  compared 
with  it,  all  else  is  worth  just  nothing  at  all.  It  is  almost 
terrifying  to  think  of  the  treasure  we  carry  about  in  such 
fragile  vessels.  A  shudder  runs  through  our  frame,  and 
our  heart's  blood  seems  almost  to  cease  flowing,  as  we 
contemplate  the  awful  responsibility  that  is  ours,  and  the 
irrevocable  choice  that  awaits  our  decision,  and  on  which 
an  eternity,  with  all  its  fathomless  heights  and  depths,  lies 
balancing. 


1062  "  Anima  Deo  Unita.'' 

Every  Catholic  duly  instructed  knows  and  believes  this. 
It  is  the  teaching  of  the  Church,  The  saints  did  more 
than  merely  know  and  believe.  They  likewise  realized  it. 
With  them  it  was  a  practical  truth,  one  that  affected  them, 
and  exercised  a  most  perceptible  influence  on  their  lives  and 
actions. 

They  argued: — 1.  The  earth  harbours  notliing  half  so 
precious  as  a  human  soul.  2.  It  is  made  to  the  image  of 
God.  3.  It  is  redeemed  by  the  death  of  the  Infinite.  4.  It 
is  destined  to  bask  for  ever  in  the  sunshine  of  God's  pre- 
sence, &c.  Such  was  their  premise.  The  consequence  was 
an  easy  ons  to  draw,  viz.,  since  the  soul  is  all  this,  and  far 
more,  then  it  must  follow  that  the  noblest,  highest,  and  most 
blessed  and  privileged  work  is  to  help  souls,  to  labour  and 
toil  for  them,  and  to  devote  one's  life,  talents,  wealth, 
strength,  and  means  to  their  service.  It  was  thus  that  all 
the  saints  argued,  and  it  was  upon  this  principle  that 
they  all  acted,  each  according  to  the  measure  of  bis 
opportunities. 

We  have  a  notable  example  in  St.  Charles  Borromeo. 
Being  a  great  saint,  he  was,  as  a  consequence,  marvellously 
illuminated  in  spiritual  things ;  and  being  thus  illuminated 
from  above,  he  was  enabled  to  recognise  beyond,  others,  the 
incomparable  beauty  of  a  soul.  He  used  often  to  enlarge  on 
this  topic,  and  to  point  out  that  it  is  worth  more  than  all  the 
treasures  of  the  world,  as  the  devil  well  knows,  who  is  so 
eager  for  its  damnation.  "  A  single  soul,"  he  exclaimed, 
"is  worth  the  continual  care  of  a  pastor."  On  one  occasion 
when  he  was  trying  to  prevail  upon  a  bi^op  to  reside  more 
continuously  in  his  diocese,  the  latter  excused  himself,  urging 
as  a  plea,  that  his  diocese  was  but  small,  and  could  easily  be 
managed  by  others.  The  saint,  who  was  extremely  grieved 
to  find  a  prelate  with  so  little  pastoral  zeal,  made 
answer: — "  A  single  soul  is  worthy  of  the  presence  and 
guardianship  of  a  bishop."  {Life,  p.  889.)  He  not  only  mani- 
fested this  zeal  himself  in  his  most  laborious  and  incessant 
efforts  to  bring  about  the  salvation  of  souls  ;  but  he  strove, 
by  every  means  in  his  power  to  infuse  a  corresponding  zeal 
into  the  hearts  of  all  others,  and  especially  into  the  hearts  of 


1063 

his  priests.  On  one  occasion,  in  the  diocesan  synod,  he 
placed  before  the  clergy  the  example  of  St.  Catherine  of 
Sienna,  in  whom  this  zeal  was  so  ardent,  that  she  offered 
herself  to  God  to  suffer  the  pains  of  hell,  in  order  to  save 
souls  who  were  on  their  way  thither.  After  mentioning  this 
fact,  he  cried  out  with  much  fervour:  "  Oh,  zeal,  worthy  of 
imitation  by  all  Christians !  If  we  could  understand  what  it 
is  to  deliver  a  soul  from  hell,  I  doubt  not  but  many  of  us 
would  risk  any  danger  in  hope  of  saving  at  least  one."  ^  How 
beautiful  are  the  feet  of  those  who  preach  the  gospel  of  peace  ! 
No  wonder,  added  St.  Charles,  that  holy  virgin  of  Sienna 
knelt  down  and  kissed  the  very  ground  that  had  been  trodden 
on  by  preachers  because  they  ivere  fellow-labourers  of  Christ. 
*'  There  is  nothing  more  pleasing  to  God,"  he  continues, 
*'than-  to  be  helpers  of  His  Son,  and  to  be  willing  to 
undertake  the  charge  of  souls.  Our  holy  Mother  the  Church 
rejoices  in  nothing  more  than  in  those  who  bring  souls  again 
to  spiritual  life,  thereby  despoiling  hell,  defeating  the  devil, 
casting  out  sin,  opening  heaven,  rejoicing  the  angels, 
glorifying  the  Blessed  Trinity,  and  preparing  for  themselves 
an  unfading  crown."     (See  Life,  page  370.) 

It  would  be  impossible,  within  the  narrow  limits  of  a 
single  paper,  to  narrate  the  many  instances  of  the  saint's 
untiring  zeal  for  the  salvation  of  the  brethren.  Let  it  suffice 
to  say,  that  their  spiritual  welfare  was  his  continual  thought 
night  and  day ;  and  that  both  by  word  and  example  he  ever 
strove,  with  unflagging  energy,  to  win  men  to  God.  No 
opportunity  was  allowed  to  pass,  no  occasion  was  suffered 
to  go  by  without  being  turned  to  the  profit  and  advantage 
of  his  people. 

When  travelling  in  the  mountain,  he  was  wont  to  stop 
and  hold  converse  with  any  of  the  poor  mountaineers  he 
chanced  to  meet,  and  stir  up  their  faith  and  fervour  by 
exhortations  on  spiritual  things.  Or  he  would  gather  a 
number  of  poor  children  together,  and  teach  them  in  simple 
words  the  Christian  doctrines,  and  then  present  them  with 


1  St.  Teresa  writes  : — "  To  save  even  one,  I  would  most  willingly 
endure  many  deaths." 


1064  ' '  A  niina  Deo  TJnita . ' ' 

a  little  reward,  to  give  them  courage  and  to  stimulate  their 
zeal.  Once,  when  he  was  visiting  the  Levantine  valley  on 
foot,  seeing  a  ragged  little  urchin  sitting  near  a  wretched 
hovel,  at  some  distance  from  the  road,  he  went  up  to  him  ; 
and  though  he  was  but  a  poor  little  child,  brought  up  among 
cattle  and  covered  with  dirt,  he  remained  for  some  time  with 
him,  and  taught  him,  with  great  charity  and  sweetness,  to 
say  the  Our  Father  and  the  Hail  Mary.  His  desire  to  assist 
souls  for  whom  Christ  died,  was,  indeed,  coextensive  with 
humanity.  He  seemed  to  include  in  his  solicitude  every 
inhabited  part  of  the  world.  He  strove  to  benefit  every 
country,  so  far  as  it  was  possible ;  and  for  that  purpose  he 
kept  up  a  continuous  correspondence  with  bishops  and 
archbishops,  even  in  distant  sees. 

The  example  of  St.  Charles  is,  in  a  greater  or  lesser 
measure,  the  example  of  every  saint.  Nor  could  this  be 
otherwise,  for  the  love  of  man  is  a  test  as  well  as  a  testimony 
of  the  love  of  God.  And  in  proportion  as  our  love  of  God 
gains  strength  and  power,  will  our  love  of  the  men  and 
women,  for  whom  He  was  crucified,  likewise  increase  and 
strengthen. 

One  of  the  saddest  and  most  deplorable  facts  forced  upon 
our  attention  at  the  present  day,  is  the  extraordinary  little 
interest  in  man's  salvation  exhibited  by  people  living  in  the 
world.  We  are  not  now  referring  to  Anglicans,  Wesleyans, 
Methodists,  and  others  who  are  dwelling  in  the  twilight  of 
heresy.  We  refer  to  Catholics  who  live  and  bask  in  the 
full  brilliancy  of  the  light  of  divine  truth,  and  who  might, 
therefore,  be  expected  to  be  more  filled  with  apostolic  charity, 
and  more  inflamed  with  zeal  for  the  hundreds  of  thousands 
perishing  in  their  very  midst. 

A  man  who  is  at  no  pains  to  learn  the  unspeakable  value 
of  his  own  soul,  will  not  set  a  very  high  price  upon  the  souls 
of  his  neighbours.  One  who  is  making  no  notable  effort  to 
ward  off  sin  and  defilement  from  himself,  and  to  preserve 
himself  from  every  stain,  is  not  likely  to  put  himself  out  to 
any  great  extent  to  rescue  his  neighbours  from  contagion. 
Nor  will  a  lukewarm  Catholic,  who  displays  no  ardent 
aspirations  and  longings  after  perfection  and  a  greater  union 


"  Anima  Deo  TJnitar  1065 

with  God,  develop  any  marked  zeal  for  the  sanctification  of 
his  fellows. 

No,  we  must  commence  with  ourselves.  "  Charitas,  bene 
ordinata  incipit  a  semetipso,"  as  St,  Thomas  teaches.  We 
must  start  with  a  strong  sense  of  the  exalted  dignity  and 
measureless  greatness  and  beauty  of  our  own  soul  when  in 
a  state  of  grace ;  we  must  grow  familiar  with  the  fact  that 
it  is  veritably  a  child  of  heaven,  an  adopted  son  of  God,  a 
brother  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  an  heir  to  an  everlasting  throne  ; 
and  a  participator  of  the  divine  nature.  Then,  but  not  till 
then,  shall  we  be  in  a  condition  to  appreciate  at  the  same 
time  the  dignity  and  value  of  the  souls  of  our  brethren,  made, 
as  our  own,  to  the  image  and  likeness  of  God  ;  and,  as  our 
own,  purchased  by  the  blood  of  an  infinite  Victim.  When 
once  that  startling  truth  is  borne  in  upon  us,  we  shall 
certainly  be  the  first  to  admit  that  no  work  or  employment 
is  so  grand  and  ennobling  in  itself,  so  pleasing  and  gratifying 
to  God,  so  honourable  to  ourselves  or  so  profitable  to  others, 
as  that  which  may  promote  the  eternal  welfare  of  the  race. 

Some  Catholic  laymen  seem  to  think  that  such  reflections 
have  no  application  except  to  bishops,  priests,  monks,  and 
nuns,  and  to  persons  especially  consecrated  to  God.  What 
a  mistake  !  Are  not  the  multitudes  of  the  human  race  their 
brethren  as  well  as  ours,  and  just  as  truly  as  themselves 
children  of  the  one  Eternal  Father  above?  Are  they 
not  equally  redeemed  by  the  same  saving  Blood,  and  destined 
to  the  same  sublime  honours  and  rewards  in  the  realms  of 
fadeless  glory  in  heaven  ?  And  have  they  not  as  much  right 
to  claim  the  interests  and  sympathy,  and  solicitude  of  Catholic 
laymen  as  of  priests  and  monks  ?  Or,  are  lay  people  to  watch 
the  ravages  of  sin,  and  to  contemplate  the  sea  of  iniquity 
raging  on  all  sides,  and  souls  perishing  before  their  eyes,  and 
to  extend  no  hand  to  help  a  drowning  brother,  and  to  make 
no  effort  to  rescue  the  perishing  ?  In  the  midst  of  this  wild, 
tempest-tossed,  wind-swept,  storm-driven  world,  are  lay 
people  to  sit  idly  by,  and  fold  their  arms  unconcerned,  and 
throw  the  entire  responsibility  and  care  upon  the  priests  ? 
No  !  To  look  upon  the  cross  of  Christ,  and  to  witness  what 
He  suffered  for  man's  redemption,  is  to  feel  the  necessity  of 


/ 


1066  "  Anima  Deo  Uniia.'' 

co-operating  with  Him  to  the  utmost  of  one's  power.  All  good 
laymen  feel  the  truth  of  this.  "What  they  want  is  that 
priests  should  point  out  to  them  what  they  might  do,  and 
the  value  of  the  least  work  undertaken  for  the  spiritual 
welfare  of  their  neighbours. 

They  often  ask,  in  a  very  diffident  tone:  "Ah!  yes; 
but  what  can  we  do  ?  We  cannot  preach,  absolve,  nor 
offer  sacrifice.  We  can  effect  so  little."  We  might 
answer : — Because  you  can  do  but  little,  is  that  any  reason 
why  you  should  do  nothing?  But,  in  sober  truth,  there  is 
nothing  little  in  any  act  or  word  that  contributes,  however 
slightly,  to  a  soul's  salvation;  nothing  trivial,  nothing 
insignificant ;  nay,  on  the  ^contrary,  the  smallest  act  is 
of  inestimable  value.  And  this  is  what,  it  appears  to  me, 
we  as  priests  should  help  them  to  realize.  Is  it  a  great 
thing  to  enrich  the  poor;  to  feed  the  multitudes ;•  to  cure 
diseases ;  to  still  tempests ;  to  create  worlds ;  or  to  build 
up  a  universe?  If  so,  it  is  a  far  greater  thing  still  to 
diminish  sin;  to  draw  souls  to  God;  to  extend  the  faith; 
and  to  engraft  virtue  and  eradicate  vice.  How  clearly 
the  saints  understood  this !  ''To  make  one  step  in  the 
propagation  of  the  faith,"  says  the  generous-hearted 
St.  Teresa,  "  and  to  give  one  ray  of  light  to  heretics, 
I  would  forfeit  a  thousand  kingdoms!"  (Vide  ivi/c,  chap, 
xxi.)  It  is  of  faith  that  one  deliberate  venial  fault  is  an 
immeasurably  worse  evil  than  all  physical  pains,  and  than  all 
material  loss  that  man  can  sustain  in  this  life ;  and  far 
more  deserving  of  tears  and  lamentations.  If  this  be 
absolutely  certain,  it  must  be  at  least  equally  cortain  that  to 
labour  to  diminish  sin,  infidelity,  religious  indifference,  and 
neglect  of  spiritual  duties,  is  a  work  of  the  very  highest 
value  and  importance.  If  by  the  end  of  our  lives  we  have 
succeeded  in  reducing  the  sum  total  of  sins  against  God  but 
by  one,  we  shall  not  have  lived  in  vain.  Yet,  if  in  earnest, 
the  least  influential  amongst  us  may  do  vastly  more  than 
that.  And  how?  the  earnest  layman  may  inquire.  Then 
let  me  answer. 

First,  by  preaching.  Not  in  words,  not  in  rounded 
periods,  and  balanced  sentences,  and  rich  sonorous  phrases, 


''  Anima  Deo  TJnitar  1067 

but  by  the  far  more  efficacious  means  of  example.  No  words 
are  half  so  eloquent  or  half  so  persuasive  as  facts.  A  good 
life  is  a  continuous  exhortation.  No  man  can  Hve  among 
men  as  a  true,  fervent,  practical,  honest,  and  sober  Catholic 
without  doing  incalculable  good.  It  is  impossible.  The 
mere  presence  of  a  noble,  upright,  generous  character,  who 
would  scorn  to  do  a  mean  or  unworthy  action,  is  itself  a  spur 
and  an  incentive  to  virtue;  such  a  man  inspires  respect, 
admiration,  and  reverence ;  and  from  admiration  and  reve- 
rence to  imitation  and  emulation  there  is  but  a  short  and 
easy  step.  We  instinctively  seek  to  imitate  what  we  admire, 
and  to  resemble  those  whom  we  esteem  and  honour. 

Secondly,  by  showing,  in  a  practical  manner,  some  real 
interest  and  concern  in  the  welfare  of  others,  and  desiring 
to  be  of  use  to  them.  Opportunities  arise  again  and  again 
of  helping  inquirers  and  assisting  the  spread  of  truth ; 
explaining  difficulties,  dissipating  doubts,  answering  objec- 
tions, interpreting  apparent  contradictions  ;  and,  in  a  word, 
of  giving  a  clear  and  intelHgible  account  of  the  faith  that  they 
profess.  If  we  encourage  Catholic  laymen  to  interest  them- 
selves more  in  studying  the  Apologetics,  the  motiva 
credihilitatis,  the  history  of  the  Church,  and  of  the  Church's 
doctrine,  and  a  score  of  kindred  subjects,  they  might  render 
invaluable  service  to  souls. 

Thirdly,  by  employing  their  special  gifts  and  talents 
more  generously  in  the  service  of  the  brethren.  How  much 
might  be  done  by  possessors  of  large  fortunes  to  advance  the 
reign  of  Christ  upon  earth.  What  real  assistance  they 
might  render  to  struggling  missions,  poverty-stricken 
churches,  and  schools,  and  institutions  at  home ;  as  well  as 
to  the  important  missionary  enterprises  in  far  distant  and 
inhospitable  lands.  Much,  no  doubt,  is  lost  by  the  injudicious 
apphcation  of  charity ;  and  much  is  spent  to  carry  out  a  whim 
or  a  personal  hobby,  which  might  have  been  laid  out  to  far 
greater  advantage,  so  far  as  souls  are  concerned.  But  of  this 
we  will  not  now  speak.  Others,  again,  who  are  blessed  with 
intellectual  gifts — with  learning,  leisure,  and  ability — might, 
surely,  find  abundant  scope  and  occupation  for  their  talents 
in  other  directions.     To  show  what  we  mean,  we  need  but 


1068  "  Anima  Deo  Unita." 

to  mention  such  names  as  Digby,  Allies,  W.  G.  Ward, 
E.  H.  Thompson,  C.F.  Allnatt,  0.  A.  Brownson,  F.  Ozanam, 
De  Kenty,  Bernieres  de  Lonrvigny,  Du  Pont  (the  holy 
man  of  Tours),  the  Comte  A.  de  Mun,  the  late  Hcrr 
"Windhorst ;  to  which  might  be  added  very  many  others, 
and  women  as  well  as  men.^ 

Fourthly,  by  throwing  themselves  generously  into  every 
good  movement  that  is  started  with  the  approbation  of 
authority,  and  uniting  their  efforts  with  those  of  others  to 
make  it  a  success.  How  frequently  it  happens  that  some 
enterprise,  excellent  in  itself,  and  admirably  conceived  and 
planned,  nevertheless  proves  abortive  and  fails,  because 
Catholics  prefer  to  criticize  than  to  co-operate,  and  to  raise 
objections  rather  than  to  raise  subscriptions.  It  would  be 
impossible  to  enumerate  the  various  useful  works  and 
ventures  to  which  the  past  five-and-twenty  or  fifty  years 
have  given  birth,  and  which  require  the  zeal  and  generosity 
of  the  faithful  if  they  are  to  continue  to  succeed  ;  but,  per- 
haps we  may  venture  to  mention  one  or  two  as  specimens  of 
the  rest.  There  is,  e.^.,  the  Catholic  Truth  Society.  It 
does  an  admirable  work.  And  it  may  be  helped  in  such  a 
variety  of  ways.  The  rich  may  aid  it  by  donations .;  the 
learned  and  leisured  by  writing  tracts,  papers,  and  essays ; 
the  poor  by  buying  the  leaflets,  which  cost  next  to  nothing, 
and  scattering  them  among  their  friends  and  acquaintances  ; 
and  all  by  speaking  well  of  it  and  wishing  it  God  speed. 
Then  there  are  Catholic  papers  which  need  support ;  and 
from  time  to  time  series  of  instructive  lectures  or  addresses 
are  delivered  which — {a)  some  might  assist  in  giving ;  which 
(6)  others  might  encourage  by  attending,  and  which 
(c)  all  could  help  by  advertising  and  making  known  among 
their  companions.  In  fact,  to  one  who  ardently  desires 
to  help  his  brethren,  thousands  of  ways  lie  open. 

Fifthly,  by  encouraging  and  fostering  religious  and  priestly 
vocations  among  the  young.  When  parents  are  true,  fervent 
Christians  themselves,  and   Catholics  to  their  very  heart's 

1  The  zeal,  and  devotion  even,  of  certain  non-Catholics,  such  as  the  late 
Lord  Shaftesbury,  and  the  Quakeress  Mrs.  Fry,  might  bring  a  blush  to 
many  a  Catholic. 


"  Anima  Deo  TJnitar  1069 

core,  they  will  certainly  realize  how  great  and  unparalleled  an 
honour  and  blessing  it  is  for  them  to  be  able  to  reckon 
among  their  children,  at  least  one  or  two  consecrated  and 
dedicated  to  God  and  the  service  of  the  altar.  Such  parents 
will  strive  by  tbe  simple  force  of  word  and  example  to  infuse 
their  own  spirit  into  their  offspring,  and  again  and  again 
their  ardent  and  continued  prayers  will  obtain  for  son  or 
daughter  the  gift  of  a  supernatural  vocation.  The  extra- 
ordinary thing  is — first,  that  even  fathers  and  mothers  who 
are  supposed  to  estimate  spiritual  things  with  some  degree  of 
accuracy,  should  often  be  so  little  anxious  to  see  their 
children  raised  to  the  sublimest  of  all  dignities,  viz.,  to  the 
unapproachable  dignity  of  the  priesthood ;  and,  secondly, 
that  even  among  the  better  class  of  young  men  themselves 
so  few  should  be  stirred  by  this  noblest  form  of  ambition. 

"  The  real  misery  of  the  Church  [Cardinal  Mermillod  justly 
observes]  is  to  see  how  young  men  of  the  upper  classes  seem  to 
be  incapable  of  anything  better  than  driving  four-in-hand,  shooting 
a  cover,  or  applauding  an  actress.  The  honour  of  taking  and 
holding  the  Blood  of  Jesus  Christ  is  not  given  to  them.  Whole 
generations  pass  away  before  a  family  gives  one  son  to  the  Church. 
Christian  women  !  [he  exclaims]  your  mothers'  hearts  do  not 
burn  enough  with  divine  love  that  their  exhalations  should  bring 
forth  the  heart  of  a  priest.  Oh  !  ask  of  God  that  your  families  may 
give  sons  to  the  Church.  .  .  .  ask  Him  that  you,  in  your  turn, 
may  have  the  courage  of  sacrifice,  and  that  from  you  may  be 
born  an  apostle  :  to  speak  to  men  about  God,  to  enlighten  the 
world,  to  serve  Him  at  the  altar.  Is  not  this,  after  all,  a  grand 
and  magnificent  destiny.*'  {Vide  Mermillod  on  The  Sui:>ernatural 
Life.) 

The  last,  but  by  no  means  the  least  important,  means  of 
co-operating  with  Jesus  Christ  in  the  work  of  saving  souls, 
is  frequent  and  fervent  prayer.  "  The  continuous  prayer 
of  the  just  man  availeth  much."  To  assist  one  another  in 
this  way  is,  indeed,  a  sacred  duty ;  it  is  a  special  exhortation 
of  the  apostle:  "pray  for  one  another,  that  you  may  be 
saved."  It  is,  furthermore,  suggested  by  our  Lord  Himself 
when  He  teaches  us  to  say,  not  ''  deliver  me,"  but  "  deliver  us 
from  evil,"  and  not  "lead  7?ie,"  but  "lead  us  not  into 
temptation,"  &c. 


1070  The  Sacrifice  of  Iphigenia. 

It  appears  to  me  that  we  do  not  take  sufficient  pains  to 
impress  upon  the  faithful  the  duty  of  labouring  according  to 
their  opportunities  for  the  salvation  of  souls  :  nor  do  we 
sufficiently  encourage  them  by  pointing  out  the  real  value 
of  the  least  act  performed  with  this  end  in  view.  Perhaps 
if  we  were  more  zealous  ourselves  we  would  be  more  careful 
and  solicitous  to  secure  the  valuable  co-operation  of  every 
good  man  and  woman,  and  more  anxious  to  instil  into  them 
an  active  and  self-sacrificing  charity.  Qui  non  ardet,  non 
accendit.  If  we  are  to  lead  others  to  exei^t  and  strain 
themselves  in  this  divine  and  inestimably  grand  work,  it  is 
imperative  that  we  first  lead  the  way,  and  by  vigorous  action, 
rather  than  by  speech.  "  Not  the  cry,  but  the  flight  of  the 
wild  duck,"  says  a  Chinese  proverb,  "leads  the  flock  to  fly 
and  to  follow." 

John  S.  Yaughan. 


THE    SACKIFICE    OF   IPHIGENIA. 

THEKE  is  a  striking  analogy  between  the  story  of  the 
Grecian  princess  Iphigenia,  such  as  it  is  represented  to 
us  in  one  of  the  master-pieces  of  Euripides,  and  that  of  a 
well-known  heroine  of  the  Old  Testament,  said  to  have  been 
immolated  by  her  father,  Jepthe,  in  circumstances  nearly 
similar.  The  resemblance  has  been  noticed  by  many  writers,^ 
some  of  whom  have  gone  so  far  as  to  assert  that  the  Grecian 
legend  is  but  a  travesty  of  sacred  history.  The  dates,  they 
say,  the  names,  and  the  principal  characteristics  of  the  story 
are  the  same.  The  events  can  be  easily  traced  to  a  contem- 
porary period  ;  the  originating  motive  of  the  sacrifice  was  in 
both  cases  a  patriotic  one ;  and  the  Greek  word  Iphigenia, 
when  analyzed  according  to  the  rules  of  philology,  can 
be  resolved  without  difficulty  into  "Jepthe's  daughter." 
Indeed  the  -likeness  becomes  still  more  apparent  when  we 
remember  that  many  important  facts  of  sacred  history  are 
found  disfigured  in  ancient  mythology,  and  particularly  in 

^  See  RosenmuUer,  Das  altc  luul  nene  Morgenland^  vol.  iii.,pages41,  43. 


The  Sacrifice  of  Iphigenia.  1071 

the  stories  of  the  heroic  ages,  and  that  the  poetry  and  dreams 
of  Greece  are  often  but  the  echoes  of  distant  truths  that 
grew  weak  as  they  spread,  and,  after  they  had  passed  through 
a  long  maze  of  corrupting  popular  traditions,  were  changed 
by  the  artifice  of  men  of  genius  into  harmonious  fictions. 
Thus,  Mr.  Gladstone,  in  his  interesting  work.  Juvenilis 
Mundi,  draws  attention  to  certain  traditions  traceable  in 
Homer,  which  appear  to  be  drawn  from  the  same  source  as 
those  of  Holy  Scripture.  Amongst  them  he  enumerates  the 
idea  of  a  deity  which  in  one  sense  is  three  in  one  (Jupiter, 
Apollo,  and  Minerva) ;  of  a  deliverer  conceived  under  the 
double  form  of  the  "  seed  of  the  woman,"  a  being  at  once 
human  and  divine ;  and,  secondly,  of  the  Logos,  the  word 
or  wisdom  of  God ;  next  of  the  woman  whose  seed  this 
Eedeemer  was  to  be  ;  and,  finally,  of  a  rainbow,  considered 
as  the  means  or  sign  of  communication  between  heaven  and 
earth.  ''  If,"  he  says,  "  in  the  progress  of  time,  and  with 
the  mutations  which  the  Olympian  system  gradually  under- 
went, the  marks  of  correspondence  with  the  Hebrew  records 
became  more  faint,  the  fact  even  raises  some  presumption, 
that  were  we  enabled  to  go  yet  farther  back,  we  should 
obtain  further  and  clearer  evidence  of  their  identity  of 
origin  in  certain  respects."  ^ 

From  other  sources  we  learn  the  existence  in  classical 
mythology  of  distinct  and  explicit  traditions  of  many  facts 
and  doctrines  of  the  Old  Testament.  Thus,  Plato  in  the 
Timaeus  ^  records  the  popular  belief  in  the  flood,  the  history 
of  which  is  also  reproduced  in  the  legend  of  Pyrra  and 
Deucalion,  ^schylus^  and  Pindar*  speak  of  a  final  judg- 
ment. Hesiod,^  in  the  legend  of  Epimetheus  and  Pandora, 
gives  us  a  glimpse  of  the  happy  state  of  man  in  paradise; 
of  the  introduction  of  sin  and  misery  into  the  world ;  of 
the  original  innocence  of  the  woman  by  whom  it  was 
introduced ;  and  of  the  hope  that  from  her,  or  from  her  race, 

^Juventus  Mundi,  by  the  Right  Hon.  W.  E.  Gladstone,  pages  207,  208. 
'""Orav  S'av  ol  Beol  rrju  yrjv  codaai  Kadaipovres  KaruKKv^coaiv,  oi  [X(v  iv  Tois 
opfai  8taaa>Co)VTai,  &G.,  7V>».,page5. 
^Supplices,  230. 
^  Oli/nqna,  ii.  58. 
5  Ojyp.  et  Dies.,  26,  58, 


1072  The  Sacrifice  of  Iphigenia. 

would  one  day  proceed  a  deliverer.^  The  same  author,  in  his 
description  of  the  garden  of  the  Hesperides,  with  its  apples 
protected  by  a  fiery  dragon,  gives  us  the  mythological  picture 
of  that  original  garden  m  which  man's  destiny  was  decreed. 
Cicero  and  Propertius  point  forward  to  a  day  of  doom,  when 
the  stars  shall  fall  and  the  earth  shall  crumble ;  whilst 
Lucretius  speaks  of  the  utter  end  and  destruction  of  the 
world  : — 

"  Una  dies  dabit  exitio,  multosque  per  annos." 
"  Sustentata  ruet  moles  et  machina  mundi." 

We  have  likewise  in  the  heroic  legends  a  tradition  of  the 
longer  life  of  primeval  man  ;  of  therebelhon  of  a  primitive  race 
against  the  Creator ;  and  of  a  God  suffering  for  the  faults  of 
men.  It  is  not  difficult  to  recognise  the  prototypes  of 
Gyges  and  of  Ephialtes,  and  of  Briareus  cast  down  beneath 
Mount  ^tna,  for  his  part  in  the  revolt  against  the  gods.  But, 
in  addition  to  this,  it  is  asserted  that  the  Greeks  took 
possession  besides  of  many  historical  events  in  Jewish 
history,  and  transferred  them  in. somewhat  altered  guise 
into  their  own  heroics.  So  convinced  of  this  was  the 
learned  G.  Vossius,^  in  the  seventeenth  century,  that  he 
regarded  the  Iliad  as  nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  Greek 
version  of  the  destruction  of  Jericho  ;  whilst  Bochart  ^  and 
his  learned  disciple  Huet,  Bishop  of  Avranches,^  were  of 
opinion  that  all  pagan  theology  was  derived  from  Moses,  and 
that  most  of  the  legends  of  the  ancient  world  drew  their 
origin  from  the  acts  and  writings  of  the  same  great  personage. 
Finally,  we  have  translated  into  English,  in  six  volumes,^  the 
work  of  the  Abbe  Banier,  written  early  in  the  last  century, 
in  which  he  undertakes  to  prove  that,  ''  notwithstanding  all 
the  ornaments  which  accompany  fables,  it  is  no  difficult 
matter  to  see  that  they  contain  part  of  the  history  of 
primitive  times." 

We  are  naturally  not  concerned  here  to  stretch  these 
shadows  of  the  original  substance  beyond  their  real  propor- 

1  See  Dr.  Dollinger's  Heidenthurd  iind  Judenthum,  pages  263,  274. 

2  De  Theolugia  Gent'di  et  Fhysiolofjia  Christiana^  pages  1],11. 
^  Geograj  Ma  Sacra,  lib.  i. 

^  2>(  monslratio  Evaiigelica,  cap.  iii.  :  "  Universa  propemodum  Ethni- 
coriim  theologia  ex  Mose,  Mosisve  actis  aut  scriptis  manavit." 

^  The  Mythology  and  Falles  of  the  Ancients  Tvplained  from  History. 


The  Sacrifice  of  Ijpliigenia.  1073 

tions ;  for  the  connection,  after  all,  is  but  dim  and  distant. 
Indeed,  notwithstanding  these  gleams  of  primitive  tradition, 
there  is  nothing  in  the  higher  life  of  Greece  so  unaccountable 
as  the  monstrous   absurdities  of  its   religious  thought  and 
worship.     It   has   ever   been,   and   is  likely    to   remain,  a 
problem,  insoluble  at  least  upon  natural  grounds,  how  this 
people,  who  had  achieved  so  much  in  philosophy,  in  poetry, 
in   art,  in  science,  in  politics :  who  had  opened  up  almost 
every  mine  of  thought  that  has  since  been  worked  by  man- 
kind :  who  invented  and  perfected  almost  every  style  of  poetry 
and  prose  that  has  been  cultivated  by  the  greatest  minds  that 
have  come  after  them  :  who  laid  the  deep  and  lasting  founda- 
tion of  the  principal  arts  and  sciences,  and  in  some  of  them 
achieved  triumphs  never  since  equalled  :  who  had  an  instinc- 
tive   and    artistic    aversion    to    everything   excessive   and 
monstrous  :   and  who  at  the  same  time  professed  a  belief, 
however   changeable    and   wavering,   in  the   crudities   and 
absurdities  of  what  is  handed  down  to  us  as  their  religion. ■"■ 
When,  therefore,  we  assert  that  in  the  ancient  mythology, 
properly  so  called,  and  in  the  legendary  tales  of  Greece,  we 
find  undoubted  vestiges  of  primitive  revelation,  as  well  as 
fanciful  reproductions  of  some  of  the  most  notable  events  of 
sacred  history,  we  intend  no  more   than   that   some  faint 
shadows,    some    misty    silhouettes    of    original   truth    are 
traceable  in  the  outlines  of  that  extraordinary  fabric ;  and 
that  in  some  special  historical  cases,  such  as  the  one  which 
claims  our  attention  here,  analogies  and  resemblances  appa- 
rently exist,  which,  if  they  are  not  sufficient  to  establish 
absolute  identity,  cannot  fail,  at  least  when  examined  and 
contrasted,  to  suggest  the  possibility  of  a  common  origin. 
The  discoveries  of  Schliemann,  and  the  critical  efforts  that 
have  been  made  to  establish  the  reality  of  the  Trojan  war, 
even  were  they  conclusive,  would  prove  no  obstacle  to  the 
theory   such  as   it   is   put  forward ;  for   Homer  makes  no 
mention  whatever  of  the  sacrifice  of  Iphigenia,  the  account 
of  which  was,  in  all  probability,  gathered  up  from  the  legends 
of  popular  recital,  and  incorporated  long  after  Homer  as 
one  of  the  events  of  the  great  journey.     But,  even  should  this 
*  See  Max  Miiller,  The  Mythology  of  the  Greeks. 
VOL.  XII.  3  Y 


1074  The  Sacrifice  of  Iphigenia. 

theory  of  identity  not  commend  itself  to  those  who  examine 
the  general  purport  and  details  of  the  two  stories,  at  least 
they  shall  find  in  them  two  examples  of  how  these  ancient 
peoples  held  it  a  duty  of  patriotism  and  of  religion  that  no 
ties  of  domestic  life  however  sacred — not  even  the  bonds  of 
paternal  or  filial  love — should  he  allowed  to  stand  between 
them  and  their  devotion  to  the  rightful  cause  of  their  native 
land.  The  manner  in  which  this  lesson  is  imparted,  as  well 
as  the  causes  which  have  led  us  to  notice  the  similitude  of  the 
stories,  will  best  be  brought  out  if  we  briefly  relate  them 
such  as  they  have  been  transmitted  to  us — the  one  in  the 
well-known  tragedy  of  Euripides,  the  other  in  the  inspired 
pages  of  the  Book  of  Judges. 

When  the  Grecian  army  was  on  its  way  to  Troy  it  was 
detained  by  contrary  winds  at  Aulis.  This  misadventure 
was  attributed  to  the  anger  of  Diana,  whose  favourite  stag 
Agamemnon  had  slain.  The  leaders  of  the  expedition  are 
informed  by  a  soothsayer  that,  in  order  to  appease  the 
goddess,  they  must  sacrifice  on  her  altar  Iphigenia, 
Agamemnon's  own  daughter.  The  unhappy  father  is  horror- 
stricken  at  this  intelligence  ;  and  his  first  resolve,  rather  than 
shed  the  blood  of  one  whom  he  loved  so  tenderly,  is  to 
disperse  the  whole  body  of  the  Greeks  and  renounce  the 
expedition.  The  other  generals  represent  to  him  the  shame 
and  humiliation  that  would  result  to  Greece  from  such  a 
course  of  action.  Murmurs  are  already  heard  in  the  camp 
that  he  is  about  to  betray  the  cause  of  which  he  had  been 
chosen  leader  and  guide  by  the  assembled  chieftains. 
Agamemnon  hesitates,  consults,  falters  ;  but  at  length  the 
love  of  country  prevails  over  kindred.  The  die  is  cast ;  and  the 
fatal  decree  is  issued,  that,  in  order  to  save  Greece,  Iphigenia 
must  perish.  She  is  at  once  brought  on  to  Aulis,  on  the 
pretence  of  a  marriage  with  Achilles.  Then  comes  the 
pitiful  scene  in  which  this  dreadful  decision  is  communicated 
to  Clytemnestra,  the  victim's  mother,  and  to  the  innocent 
and  beautiful  Iphigenia  herself,  both  of  whom  had  come  to 
Aulis  with  thoughts  of  nuptials  and  of  victory,  but  not  of 
death.  The  distraction  of  Clytemnestra  is  boundless,  and 
her  sorrow  inconsolable.  Iphigenia,  too,  in  all  the  fresh- 
ness and  bloom  of  life,  bewails  her  sad  lot  in  accents  of 


The  Sacrifice  of  Ipliigenia.  1075 

condensed  grief,  and  would  have  given  way  to  unutterable 
despair,  were  it  not  for  the  calm,  though  sorrowful,  reasoning 
of  Agamemnon,  who  gradually  brings  her  to  see  how  noble 
a  thing  it  is  to  die  for  the  people  and  to  save  the  country. 
When  she  comes  at  last  to  realize  the  heroism  of  the  sacrifice, 
she  is  no  longer  heart-broken,  but  even  offers  consolation 
to  others,  and  directs  her  attendants  to  prepare  the  final 
rites : — 

"  Lead  me  :  mine  the  glorious  fate 

To  overturn  the  Phrygian  state 

Illium's  towers,  their  heads  shall  bow. 

With  the  garlands  bind  my  brow. 

Bring  them,  be  these  tresses  crowned 

Eound  the  shrine,  the  altar  round  ; 

Bear  the  lavers  which  you  fill 

From  the  pure,  translucent  rill ; 

High  your  choral  voices  raise. 

Tuned  to  hymn  Diana's  praise. 

Blessed  Diana,  royal  maid. 

Since  the  fates  demand  my  aid, 

I  fulfil  their  awful  power 

By  my  slaughter,  by  my  gore." 

Encouraged  by  her  handmaids,  and  holding  firm  in  her 
purpose,  whilst  the  last  preparations  are  being  made,  she 
still  continues  : — 

**  Swell  the  notes,  ye  virgin  train  ; 
To  Diana  swell  the  strain  ; 
Queen  of  Chalcis,  adverse  land  ; 
Queen  of  Aulis,  on  whose  strand 
Winding  to  a  narrow  bay, 
Fierce  to  take  its  angry  way, 
Waits  the  war  and  calls  on  me 
Its  retarded  force  to  free. 
O  my  country,  where  these  eyes 
Open'd  on  Pelasgic  skies  ! 
O  ye  virgins,  once  my  pride. 
In  Mycenae  who  reside  ! 
Me  you  reared  a  beam  of  light ; 
Freely  now  I  sink  in  night. 
Ah  !  thou  beaming  lamp  of  day ! 
Jove-born,  bright,  ethereal  ray  ! 
Other  regions  me  await. 
Other  life  and  other  fate  1 
Farewell,  beauteous  lamp  of  day  ! 
Farewell,  bright  ethereal  ray  !  " 


1076  The  Sacrifice  of  Iphigenia. 

The  prophet  Calchas  then  draws  from  its  sheath  the 
sharp-edged  sword,  and  as  he  was  going  to  strike  the  fata] 
blow,  Iphigenia  disappears,  and  a  deer  is  left  in  her  place 
for  the  sacrifice.  This  supernatural  change  reanimated  the 
Greeks  ;  the  winds  became  suddenly  favourable ;  and  the 
combined  fleet  set  sail  from  Aulis.  Iphigenia' s  innocence 
had  excited  the  compassion  of  the  goddess ;  and  she  is  carried 
away  to  the  Tauric  Chersonese,  to  take  charge  of  Diana's 
temple.  Here  other  adventures  await  her  in  connection 
with  Pylades  and  Orestes:  and  these,  too,  have  been 
celebrated  by  Euripides  and  many  subsequent  imitators; 
but  further  than  this  it  is  not  necessary  to  follow. 
The  passage  in  Euripides,  in  which  Iphigenia  pleads 
for  her  life  with  Agamemnon,  is  considered  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  and  effective  in  the  Greek  lan- 
guage :— 

"  Had  I,  my  father,  the  persuasive  voice 
Of  Orpheus,  and  his  skill  to  charm  the  rocks 
To  follow  me,  and  soothe  whome'er  I  please 
With  winning  words,  I  would  make  trial  of  it ; 
But  I  have  nothing  to  present  thee  now 
Save  tears,  my  only  eloquence  ;  and  those 
I  can  present  thee. 

Ah  !  kill  me  not  in  youth's  fresh  prime. 
Sweet  is  the  light  of  heaven  :  compel  me  not 
What  is  beneath  to  view.     I  was  the  first 
To  call  thee  father ;  me  thou  first  did'st  call 
Thy  child.     I  was  the  first  that  on  my  knees 
Fondly  caressed  thee,  and  from  thee  received 
The  fond  caress ;  this  was  my  speech  to  thee  : 
Shall  I  then  live  for  thee  ?     Shall  I  receive 
My  father  when  grown  old,  and  in  my  house 
Cheer  him  with  each  fond  office,  to  repay 
The  careful  nurture  which  he  gave  my  youth  ? 
These  words  are  on  my  memory  deep  impressed. 
Thou  hast  forgot  them,  and  wilt  kill  thy  child." 

The  perplexity  and  despair  that  rack  the  breast  of 
Agamemnon  under  these  reproaches  are  beautifully  expressed 
in  the  modern  tragedy  of  Eacine  : — 

"  Ma  fille,  il  est  trop  vrai,  j 'ignore  pour  quel  crime 
La  colere  des  dieux  demande  une  victime 


The  Sacrifice  of  Iphigenia.  1077 

Mais  ils  vous  ont  nomme,  un  oracle  cruel 
Veut  qu'ici  votre  sang  coule  sur  un  autel 
Pour  defendre  vos  jours  de  leurs  lois  meurtrieres 
Mon  amour  n'avait  pas  attendu  vos  prieres. 
Je  ne  vousdirai  point  combien  j'ai  resiste 
Croyez-en  cet  amour  par  vous  meme  atteste 

Ma  fille  il  faut  ceder,  votre  heure  est  arrivee 
Songez  bien  dans  quel  rang  vous  etes  elevee 
Je  vous  donne  un  conseil  qu'a  peine  je  recoi 
Du  coup  qui  vous  attend  vous  mourrez  moins  que  moi 
Montrez  en  expirant,  de  qui  vous  etes  nee 
Faites  rougir  ces  dieux  qui  vous  ont  condamnee 
AUez  ;  et  que  les  Grecs  qui  vont  vous  immoles 
Eeconnaissent  mon  sang  en  le  voyant  couler." 

The  fate  of  Iphigenia  has  been  ever  a  fruitful  theme  in 
literature,  and  there  is  scarcely  any  legend  of  Grecian  story 
that  has  been  treated  by  so  many  poets,  both  ancient  and 
modern.  Euripides  follows  his  heroine  to  Taurica,  and  his 
drama  on  this  portion  of  her  history  is,  in  many  respects, 
superior  to  the  other.  The  most  notable  attempt  of  the 
moderns  to  dramatize  her  Tauric  adventures  v^as  that  of 
Goethe  ;  but  it  turned  out  an  almost  absolute  failure,  and 
Professor  Mahaffy  but  echoes  the  general  opinion  concerning 
it,  when  he  says  : — ^ 

"  This  play  has  been  extolled  far  beyond  its  merits  by  the 
contemporaries  of  its  great  author  ;  but  it  is  now  generally  allowed, 
even  in  Germany,  to  be  a  somewhat  unfortunate  mixture  of  Greek 
scenery  and  characters  with  modern  romantic  sentiment.  It  gives 
no  idea  whatever  of  a  Greek  play.  .  .  .  The  whole  diction 
and  tone  of  it  is  full  of  idealistic  dreaming  and  conscious  analysis 
of  motive  which  the  Greeks  would  never  have  paraded  on  the 
stage." 

A  rather  recent  attempt  was  made  in  English  poetry  to 
celebrate  that  portion  of  the  heroine's  life  which  followed  her 
return  from  Scythia;  but  the  success  of  Mr.  Kichard  Garnett's 
effort,  Iphigenia  in  Delphi,  is  not  likely  to  encourage  others. 
Indeed,  the  chief  and  lasting  interest  of  Iphigenia  is  centred 

History  of  Classical  Greek  Literature,  vol.  i.,  page  357. 


1078  The  Sacrifice  of  Iphigenia. 

in  the  sacrifice ;  and  this  it  is  that  has  gained  for  her  such 
widespread  acknowledgment. 

Both  Sophocles  and  ^schylus  had  written  Iphigenias ; 
but  they  were  thrown  into  the  shade  by  that  of  Euripides', 
published  after  its  author's  death.  In  the  Latin  classics, 
tragedies  were  composed,  in  imitation  of  the  latter,  by 
Naevius  and  Ennius.  In  the  sixteenth  century,  an  Italian 
version  of  it  was  written  by  Dolce,  whilst  his  countryman 
Euccellai  dramatized  Iphigenia  in  Tauris.  In  France,  of 
many  versions,  the  most  remarkable  was  that  of  Kacine ;  and 
in  England,  Potter's  translation  remains,  we  believe,  the 
standard  metrical  version  of  this  and  all  the  other  works  of 
the  same  author. 

We  have  only  to  remark,  as  a  last  word,  that  all  the  poets 
had  not  the  same  tradition  respecting  Iphigenia.  Some  of 
them  represented  her  as  having  been  actually  immolated, 
without  any  device  or  escape,  on  the  altar  of  Aulis.  This  is 
the  version  of  the  tradition  which  is  given  in  the  Electra  of 
Sophocles ;  whilst  in  the  Orestian  trylogy  of  ^schylus, 
Clytemnestra  says  that  Agamemnon,  her  husband,  who  had 
just  expired,  will  meet,  in  Hades,  Iphigenia,  his  daughter, 
whom  he  formerly  immolated.  This,  too,  is  the  version 
recorded  by  Lucretius  in  the  commencement  of  his  first 
book  : — 

"  Aulide  quo  pacto  Trivial  virginis  aram 
Iphianassai  turparunt  sanguine  foede 
Ductores  Danaum ;  ' 

and  by  Virgil,  in  the  second  book  of  Aeneid  : — 

''  Sanguine  placastis  ventos  et  virgine  caesa." 

There  is  a  third  opinion  which  is  found  in  Stesichorus — one 
of  the  oldest  lyric  poets  of  Greece,  and  inventor  of  the  epode 
— to  the  effect  that  at  the  last  moment  the  priest  of  Diana 
discovered  another  Iphigenia,  the  illegitimate  daughter  of 
Helen  and  Theseus,  who  had  been  reared  at  Agamemnon's 
court,  under  the  name  of  Eryphile,  and  who  was  plotting 
against  Agamemnon's  daughter  for  the  hand  of  Achilles  ; 
that  this  was  the  Iphigenia  who  was  really  sacrificed ;  and 


The  Sacrifice  of  Iphigenia.  1079 

that  the  daughter  of  Agamemnon  was  accordingly  saved. 
This  is  the  theory  which  was  adopted  by  Kacine,  who  was 
glad  to  find  some  more  artistic  expedient  than  a  miracle  to 
save  the  life  of  so  virtuous  a  princess  ;  and  he  relies  for  his 
choice  on  the  testimony  of  Pausanias,  who  says  that  this  was 
the  general  belief  in  his  own  day  through  the  whole  country 
of  Argos. 

We  now  turn  to  one  of  the  most  singular  episodes  recorded 
in  the  Old  Testament ;  and,  whilst  not  committing  ourselves 
by  any  means  to  the  theory  that  this  Grecian  legend  is  but 
its  mythical  offshoot,  we  shall  endeavcar  so  to  set  it  before 
our  readers  as  to  make  plain  the  features  in  which  the  two 
stories  coincide. 

During  that  period  of  Jewish  history  which  intervened 
between  the  last  of  the  patriarchs  and  the  accession  of  Saul, 
anointed  and  proclaimed  king  by  the  prophet  Samuel,  the 
country  was  governed  by  judges,  who  exercised  supreme 
authority,  much  to  the  same  extent  as  the  Suffetes  of 
Carthage,  the  Arclions  of  Greece,  or  the  Dictators  of  ancient 
Rome.  Now,  according  to  that  visible  providence,  by  which 
God  dealt  directly  with  His  people,  and  through  which  He 
was  pleased  to  give  to  mankind  for  ever,  a  glimpse  of  His 
inscrutable  and  eternal  ways,  the  deeds  of  virtue  or  the 
crimes  of  this  favoured  nation  were  quickly  followed  by 
corresponding  weaves  of  prosperity  or  oppression.  It  is, 
indeed,  an  interesting  study  to  trace  how  unerringly  abundance 
or  famine,  peace  or  war,  liberty  or  slavery,  followed  in  their 
social  and  political  life,  according  as  they  remained  faithful 
to  the  God  of  their  fathers,  or  turned  to  the  ways  of  idolatry 
and  wickedness. 

It  was  in  pursuance  of  this  divine  economy,  almost 
mechanical  in  the  certainty  of  its  working,  that  Judaea  was 
oppressed  not  long  after  the  death  of  her  champion  Gedeon, 
by  the  bold  and  warlike  race  of  Ammon,  who  dwelt  to  the 
east  of  the  Jordan,  between  Arabia  and  Coelosyria.  The 
disasters  that  overtook  the  Jews  in  the  course  of  this  war- 
fare, were  the  result  of  their  crimes;  for  as  the  sacred  writer 
tells  us  : — *'  The  children  of  Israel,  adding  new  sins  to  their 
old  ones,  did  evil  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord,  and  served  idols, 


1080  The  Sacrifice  of  Iphigenia. 

Baalim  and  Astarotli,  and  the  gods  of  Syria  and  of  Sidon, 
and  of  Moab,  and  of  the  children  of  Ammon,  and  of  the 
Philistines ;  and  they  left  the  Lord,  and  did  not  serve 
Him."i 

When  the  chastisement  due  to  such  ingratitude  and 
infidelity  was  now  falling  heavily  upon  them,  they  had 
recourse,  in  their  misery,  to  that  clement  God  who  had  so 
often  pardoned  them,  and  who,  in  spite  of  so  many  delin- 
quencies, still  cherished  them  as  His  own ;  and  when  they 
had  "  cast  out  of  their  coasts  the  idols  of  the  false  gods,"  He 
allowed  Himself  to  be  touched  once  again  by  the  sufferings 
of  His  people,  and  sent  them  a  deliverer  in  the  person  of 
Jepthe. 

Jepthe  was  the  bravest  man  of  his  day,  and  was  called 
by  his  countrymen  "  the  able  in  war."  His  great  reputation 
was  due  to  his  courage,  and  his  courage  was  formed  and  tried 
in  misfortune ;  a  vice  of  birth  stained  his  origin.  His 
mother  was  a  stranger,  according  to  some ;  a  spouse  of  the 
second  order,  according  to  others.  The  children  of  all  such 
unions  were  regarded  with  disdain  in  Israel,  and  they  did 
not  inherit  like  the  children  of  the  legitimate  wife.  Jepthe 
was,  therefore,  driven  from  his  home  by  his  brothers,  who 
said  to  him  :  "  Thou  canst  not  inherit  in  the  house  of  our 
father,  because  thou  art  of  a  different  mother."  ^  Whether  it 
was  that  he  had  no  appeal  from  this  hard  exclusion,  or  that 
a  formal  decision  was  given  against  him,  Jepthe  fled  to  the 
southern  part  of  the  land  of  Galaad,  and  began  the  life  of 
warlike  adventure  which  soon  made  him  famous  in  the 
neighbouring  country.  Some  poor  men,  wanderers  like  him- 
self, linked  their  fate  with  his,  and  elected  him  their  chief, 
on  account  of  his  bravery.  Under  his  command,  frequent 
incursions  were  made  into  the  territory  of  the  enemies  of 
Israel.  He  is  believed  to  have  inspired  some  sentiments  of 
honour  and  patriotism  into  that  strange  kind  of  life,  and  some 
of  the  best  commentators  acquit  him  of  the  charge  of  having 
exercised  regular  rapine  or  brigandage,  or  of  ever  having 
abused  his  power  in  order  to  oppress  the  weak. 

1  Judges,  X.  6.  Judges,  xi.  2, 


The  Sacrifice  of  Iphigenia.  1081 

It  was  in  the  surroundings  of  such  a  life  that  the  daughter 
was  born,  whose  memory  has  survived  with  that  of  Jepthe 
himself.  Nothing,  however,  is  known  of  her  existence  till 
the  occurrence  of  the  sad  event  which  made  her  celebrated 
in  Jewish  annals.  Even  her  name  is  withheld  from  us  by 
the  inspired  writer :  perhaps  as  a  lesson  to  those  who  are  so 
ready  to  mark  with  the  seal  of  their  personality  whatever 
meritorious  actions  they  are  able  to  accomplish. 

As  the  Ammonites  pressed  hard  upon  the  sons  of  Israel, 
we  are  told  that  the  ancients  of  Galaad  sought  the  assistance 
of  Jepthe,  whose  fame  had  reached  them.  Amongst  those 
who  waited  upon  him  with  that  object  were  some  of  his 
own  brothers,  or  perhaps  of  the  judges  who  had  formerly 
decreed  his  exclusion ;  for  his  answer  was  :  "  Are  not  you  the 
men  that  hated  me,  and  cast  me  out  of  my  father's  house  ? 
and  now  you  come  to  me,  constrained  by  necessity."^  It  was 
only  when  they  had  promised  to  make  honourable  amends 
for  their  former  harshness,  by  raising  him,  in  the  event  of 
victory,  to  the  position  of  Prince  of  Galaad,  that  Jepthe 
consented  to  undertake  the  command. 

Jepthe,  like  all  men  who  are  conscious  of  their  strength, 
and  who  shudder  at  the  miseries  of  bloodshed  and  death, 
was  moderate  as  he  was  brave.  He  at  once  opened  negotia- 
tions with  the  enemies  of  Israel,  and  endeavoured  by  the 
peaceful  methods  of  diplomacy  to  bring  about  a  settlement  of 
their  quarrels.  But  the  King  of  the  Ammonites,  elated  by 
success,  would  not  listen  to  his  proposals,  and  there  was 
no  alternative  but  war.  The  new  commander  accordingly 
went  in  haste  through  the  neighbouring  country  to  get  some 
troops  together.  In  a  few  days  he  was  ready  for  the  march. 
It  was  then  that  he  made  to  the  Lord  the  memorable 
vow: — ''If thou  wilt  deliver  the  children  of  Ammon  into 
my  hands,  whosoever  shall  first  come  out  of  the  doors  of  my 
house,  and  shall  meet  me  when  I  return  in  peace,  the  same 
shall  I  offer  a  holocaust  to  thee."  ^ 

The  Ammonites  were  soon  vanquished :  they  lost  a 
great  number  of  men ;  their  towns  and  villages  were  pillaged. 

I  Judges,  xi.  7  Judges,  xi.  31. 


1082  The  Sacrifice  of  Iphigenia. 

The  victorious  general  smote  them  from  Aroer  to  Mennith, 
and  returned  in  triumph  to  his  home  at  Maspha.  His 
daughter,  who  was  an  only  child,  came  forth  to  greet  him, 
cheered  by  the  sounds  of  music  and  the  joyous  choirs  of  her 
companions.  When  the  quarrels  of  Israel  ended  in  victory, 
the  women  and  maidens  went  forth  to  receive  the  conqueror 
with  all  the  accompaniments  of  gladness.  Saul  and  David 
had  received  a  triumph  of  the  same  kind  after  the  defeat  of 
the  Philistines  and  the  death  of  Goliath ;  and,  long  before 
the  time  of  Saul,  the  passage  of  the  Ked  Sea  was  similarly 
celebrated  by  Mary,  the  sister  of  Moses,  and  all  the  women 
of  Israel. 

But  the  brightness  of  the  happiest  days  is  sometimes 
darkened  by  events  of  extraordinary  sadness.  In  the  midst 
of  the  ovation,  Jepthe  perceived  his  daughter,  and  remember- 
ing his  fatal  vow,  he  rent  his  garments,  and  in  grief  and  tears 
proceeded  to  inform  her  of  the  solemn  promise  he  had  made. 
The  noble  virgin  submitted  resolutely  to  her  fate.  TherQ 
was  no  display  of  weakness  here,  or  pleading  for  life.  "  Do 
unto  me,"  she  said,  ''  whatsoever  thou  hast  promised,  since 
the  victory  hath  been  granted  to  thee  and  revenge  of  thy 
enemies."  She  had  but  one  respite  to  ask — that  she  might 
be  allowed  to  retire  to  the  mountains  for  two  months  to 
bewail  her  virginity  with  her  companions.  It  was  no  unusual 
thing  for  Jewish  families  whenever  any  disgrace  or  disaster 
befell  them  to  retire  to  the  mountains,  where  the  grandeur 
and  solitude  of  nature  was  calculated  to  nourish,  but  likewise 
to  modify  and  charm,  their  sadness.  There,  besides,  they 
could  give  outward  expression  to  their  sorrow  without  much 
restraint ;  differing  in  this  from  modern  peoples,  whose 
education  teaches  them  to  envelop  mourning  in  a  sort  of 
ceremony  which  tempers  the  natural  grief,  and  keeps  it  under 
the  control  of  social  customs. 

Jepthe  granted  his  daughter's  request,  and  allowed  her  to 
retire  for  the  time  she  had  specified.  The  delay,  no  doubt, 
added  to  the  pain  of  the  sacrifice.  It  is  a  common  thing 
enough  to  become  electrified  in  the  shock  of  events,  and  to  give 
in  the  freshness  of  enthusiasm  an  example  of  heroic  but  in- 
stantaneous courage.     It  is  more  difficult  and  far  more  rare  to 


The  Sacrifice  of  Iphigenia.  1083 

look  the  danger  for  a  long  time  in  the  face,  and  to  approach 
it  with  calm  and  manly  courage.  The  interval,  however, 
was  not  uneventful  for  Jepthe.  Jealous  of  the  conqueror  of 
the  Ammonites,  the  people  of  the  tribe  of  Ephraim  rose  in 
rebellion  against  him,  and  gave  as  a  pretext  for  their  conduct, 
that  they  had  not  been  called  out  against  the  common 
enemy.  This  plea  was  not  justified,  for  Jepthe  said  to 
them  :  "  When  I  and  my  people  had  a  great  strife  with  the 
Ammonites,  I  called  you  to  assist  me,  and  you  would  not- 
Nevertheless  I  put  my  life  in  my  hands,  and  passed  over 
against  the  children  of  Ammon,  and  the  Lord  delivered  them 
into  my  hands.  How  then  have  I  deserved  that  you  should 
rise  up  and  fight  against  me  ?"-^ 

This  reasoning  was  of  no  avail,  and  Jepthe  was  obliged 
to  have  recourse  to  arms.  Once  again  he  gathered  his 
dispersed  troops,  and  attacked  the  Ephraimites,  who  had 
advanced  over  the  Jordan.  They  were  soon  defeated,  and 
driven  back  to  the  river,  which  they  could  not  cross,  as  its 
banks  were  protected  by  the  troops  of  Jepthe.  Those  who 
desired  to  cross  were  asked  :  "  Art  thou  of  Ephraim?" — for 
the  military  costume  was  the  same.  The  fugitive,  to  save 
his  life,  answered  that  he  was  not.  "  Say  then  the  word 
Shibboleth,"  retorted  the  soldiers  of  Galaad,  with  an  accent 
and  pronunciation  peculiar  to  their  country.  The  Ephraimite, 
pronouncing  according  to  the  manner  of  his  tribe,  said 
*'  Sibboleth ;"  and,  when  thus  recognised  as  one  of  the  enemy, 
was  immediately  put  to  death. ^  The  campaign  was  perfectly 
decisive,  and  peace  was  again  restored  to  the  country.  On 
his  return  from  this  expedition  Jepthe  found  his  daughter ; 
and  then,  it  is  supposed,  the  vow  was  fulfilled. 

It  is  difficult  to  say  precisely  in  what  the  holocaust 
promised  and  offered  by  Jepthe  consisted.  The  Scripture 
itself  seems  to  veil  the  episode  from  us  in  the  general  terms 
which  it  employs,  and  we  are  left  in  doubt  as  to  how  the  vow 
was  actually  executed.     It  is  certain  that  up  to  the  eleventh 

1  Judges,  xii.  1  -3. 

^  In  modern  times  a  similar  device  was  resorted  to.  It  was  on  the 
occasion  of  the  famous  massacre  of  the  "  Sicih'an  Vespers,*'  when  the 
French  fugitives  were  asked  to  pronounce  the  word  "  Ciceri." 


1084  The  Sacrifice  oj  Ipliigenia. 

century  the  opinion  of  the  Fathers,  founded  on  Jewish 
tradition,  as  well  as  that  of  commentators  and  exegetes, 
,  understood  it  to  be  an  immolation  in  blood  of  the  tender  and 
innocent  victim,  carried  out  by  Jepthe  himself ;  and  the  same 
was  the  opinion  of  St.  Ambrose,  and  also  of  St.  Thomas, 
who  blames  the  father  for  his  inconsiderate  vow,  and  still 
more  for  its  "  impious  execution."  ^  It  was  on  the  authority 
of  such  learned  interpreters  that  Dante  based  his  reference 
when  speaking  of  the  binding  force  of  vows  in  Paradise  ;— ^ 

'*  Let  mortals,  then,  no  vows  in  jesting  say ; 
Be  faithful  nor  to  act  so  rashly  stirred 
As  Jepthah  was  his  first  chance  vow  to  pay 

Who  more  becomingly  had  said  '  I've  erred,' 
Than  to  do  worse  in  bondage  to  such  ties. 
Nor  less  the  blame  the  Greek's  great  duke  incurred 

Whence  wept  Iphigenia  her  fair  eyes, 

And  made  tears  flow  alike  from  fool  and  sage 
When  they  heard  tell  of  such  a  sacrifice." 

In  modern  times  other  interpretations  sprang  up  and 
met  with  considerable  favour.  The  chief  one  is  that  Jepthe 
meant  only  in  the  case  of  his  daughter  to  consecrate  her  in 
a  special  manner  to  the  ministrations  of  the  temple,  and  to 
bind  her  to  virginity.  They  rely  for  their  proofs  on  the 
horror  with  which  God  regarded  human  sacrifices,  and  their 
express  prohibition  in  the  old  law,  as  well  as  upon  the 
sacred  text,  which  says  that  immediately  before  Jepthe 
formulated  his  vow  "  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  came  upon  him  ;" 
that  it  was  to  bewail  her  virginity  that  his  daughter  retired 
to  the  mountains  ;  and,  finally,  that  when  her  father  had  done 
to  her  as  he  had  vowed,  "she  knew  no  man."  The  word 
holocaust  would  thus  be  taken  in  a  merely  figurative  sense. ^ 
They  also  recall  the  words  of  St.  Paul  in  his  Epistles  to  the 
Hebrews,^  where  he  associates  Jepthe  with  Gedeon,  Samuel 
and   David,   as  amongst   those   "  Who  by  faith  conquered 

1  Summa  2^  2'^«  quest.  88. 

2  Canto  vi. 

2  Some  Hebrew  scholars  hold  that  the  text  should  be  translated  : 
"Sit  Jehovae  ant  offeram  in  holocaustam,"  but  the  best  authorities 
support  the  translation  of  St.  Jerome 

*  Hebrews  xi.  32,  3o. 


The  Sacrifice  of  Iphigenia  l685 

kingdoms,  wrought  justice,  obtained  promises,  stopped  the 
mouths  of  lions,  quenched  the  violence  of  fire,  escaped  the 
edge  of  the  sword,  recovered  strength  from  weakness,  became 
valiant  in  battle,  and  put  to  flight  the  armies  of  foreigners." 

No  doubt  there  are  strong  objections  to  this  solution  of 
the  difficulty,  arising  both  from  the  terms  employed  in 
Scripture  and  from  the  well-known  habits  and  aspirations  of 
the  Jews.  The  word  "  holocaust"  is  never  used  figuratively 
elsewhere.  Virginity  was  regarded  with  disfavour,  on  accomit 
of  the  hopes  of  the  Messiah.  The  words  of  the  text  are 
very  energetic,  and  seem  to  indicate  by  their  force  that  a 
real  immolation  was  intended.  And  yet,  were  it  not  for 
the  undoubted  weight  of  primitive  tradition,^  we  should  un- 
questionably plead  a  partiality  for  this  opinion.  The  whole 
nation,  as  it  appears  to  us,  would  have  recoiled  in  horror 
from  the  slaughter,  by  her  own  father,  of  a  person 
so  innocent.  Jepthe  is  not  blamed  for  his  act  in  the  Old 
Testament.  He  is  praised  by  St.  Paul  for  his  faith.  The 
Spirit  of  God  had  come  upon  him,  as  we  are  told,  when  he 
formed  his  vow.  And  although  there  is  no  other  record  of 
a  spouse  consecrated  to  God  in  virginity  before  the  Blessed 
Virgin,  may  it  not  have  been  that  Jepthe's  daughter,  on 
account  of  her  innocence  and  virtue,  was  privileged  to 
resemble  in  that  figurative  time  the  chosen  spouses  of  the 
New  Law  ?  May  she  not  have  foreshadowed,  even  at  such 
a  distance,  her  who  by  her  interior  beauty  and  the  charm  of 
the  highest  virtue  was  to  become  the  mother  of  God,  and 
have  given  an  example  amongst  an  earthly  and  sensual  race 
of  that  virtue  which  Christ  our  Lord  was  to  embellish  and 
to  consecrate,  which  has  adorned  His  Charch  from  the  days 
of  the  Apostles  and  the  martyrs,  and  which  by  the  effective 
aid  which  it  has  lent  in  establishing  the  prestige  of  mind 
over  mattei',  of  right  over  violence,  has  contributed  so  largely 
to  the  supremacy  in  the  world  of  European  civilization,  and 
to  the  progressive  mansuetude  of  manners  and  customs  in 
modern  times  ? 

Judaea  solemnized  by  a  public  ceremony  the  sacrifice  of 
the  daughter  of  Jepthe.  Every  year  the  virgins  of  Israel 
assembled  to  weep  the  noble  victim  of  patriotism  and  filial 


1086  Leo  XIII.  and  the  Social  Problem. 

obedience.  This  festival,  which  lasted  for  a  long  period,  was 
corrupted  in  the  course  of  time.  In  the  fourth  century  of 
our  era  we  find  the  still  pagan  cities  of  Sebasta  and 
Naplouse,  formerly  Samaria  and  Sichem,  giving  idolatrous 
honours  to  the  heroine  of  Maspha.  A  fame  more  worthy  of 
her  character  has  survived  in  Christian  art. 

In  poetry  one  of  the  most  touching  of  Lord  Byron's 
Hebrew  melodies  commemorates  her  sacrifice,  which  he  too 
resjarded  as  a  holocaust  in  blood. 

In  the  illuminated  Bibles,  the  stained  glass  and  paintings 
of  the  middle  ages,  both  father  and  daughter  also  find  an 
honoured  place.  J.  F.  Hogan. 


LEO  XIII.  AND  THE  SOCIAL  PEOBLEM.— II. 

"  COEEUPTIO"  ET  *'  SANATIO." 

AN  interesting  and  instructive  study,  not  unmixed  with 
amusement,  would  be  the  work  of  collating  and  con- 
trasting the  various  curious  and  contradictory  readings  which 
have  been  worked  into  the  text  and  between  the  lines  of  the 
Encyclical  Berum  Novarum  by  the  ingenious  prejudices  of 
Protestant  writers  and  journalists.  One  class  represent  the 
Pope's  words  as  the  utterance  of  a  convert  to  democracy,  or 
the  tardy  and  compulsory  confession  of  an  ' '  effete  old-world 
power"  that  it  is  impotent  to  resist  "the  onward  trend  of 
humanity,"  and  would,  therefore,  desire  to  boil  back  to  youth 
its  aged  vigour  by  an  indiscriminate  burning  of  past  principles 
and  records  beneath  the  cauldron  of  progress.  Another  class 
declare  that  all  this  whining  sympathy  with  the  poor 
labourer  was  to  be  expected  from  "the  Church  of  the 
beggar"— the  Church  which  degrades  the  people  by  her 
doctrine  and  practice  of  charity  ;  and  that,  after  all,  nothing 
new  is  taught,  nothing  but  some  .commonplace  maxims  of 
morality  spiced  with  much  talk  of  the  "  Church,"  and  of 
certain  empty  impossible  ideals. 

The  design  of  this  paper  is  to  deal  with  both  these  views 
ol  the  Encyclical ;  but  mainly  with  the  first,  which  declares 
that  the   teaching  of  our   Holy  Father  means  a  complete 


Leo  XIII.  and  the  Social  Problem.  1087 

change  of  front  on  the  part  of  the  Church  ;  that  it  is  nothing 
more  nor  less  than  ''the  boldest  bid  for  the  labour  vote;" 
that  its  real  significance,  now  that  the  Pope  has  committed 
himself  and  cannot  withdraw,  amounts  to  this — "instead  of 
being  the  blackcoated  gendarme  of  the  oppressor,  the  Catholic 
Church  is  to  become  the  tribunal  of  the  oppressed."  In 
order  to  make  it  quite  clear  how  offensive  is  this  false 
concoction  of  journalistic  commentary,  which  is  often 
administered  to  the  public  with  an  infusion  of  lavender- 
water  sympathy  and  supposed  appreciation,  it  will  be  well 
for  us  to  compare  the  relative  effect  of  Catholic  and  Protestant 
action  and  principles  on  the  people  during  the  past  three 
hundred  years,  more  particularly  in  England.  Such  a 
retrospect,  while  affording  a  refutation  of  certain  would-be 
Popes  of  Printingdom — self-constituted  guides  and  infallible 
advisers  of  the  "English-speaking  folk" — will  better  enable 
us  to  understand  the  present,  and  to  some  extent  may  serve 
to  warn  and  forearm  us  for  the  future. 

"  Quod  si  quis  sanae  mentis  [says  our  Holy  Father  in  his 
very  first  Encyclical]  ^  banc  ipsam  qua  vivimus  aetatem,  Keligioni 
et  Ecclesiae  Christi  infensissimam,  cum  iis  temporibus  auspica- 
tissimis  conferat,  quibus  Ecclesia  uti  mater  a  gentibus  colebatur, 
omnino  comperiet  aetatem  banc  nostram  perturbationibus  et 
demolitionibus  plenam,  recta  ac  rapide  in  suam  perniciem  ruere ; 
ea  vero  tempora  optimis  institutis,  vitae  tranquiilitate,  opibus  et 
prosperitate  eo  magis  floruisse,  quo  Ecclesiae  regiminis  ac  legum 
sese  observantiores  populi  exhibuerunt.'' 

The  Catholic  Church  is  the  only  life  principle  of  society, 
he  declares ;  she  made  existing  nations  v/hat  the}^  are  by 
being  to  them  a  nurse,  a  gentle  mistress,  and  a  mother  in 
the  growing  infancy  of  humanity.  She  it  was  who  lifted 
the  yoke  of  slavery  from  off  the  necks  of  the  lowly  toiler, 
and  restored  him  to  the  dignity  of  his  noble  nature ;  she 
unfurled  the  standard  of  redemption  in  every  quarter  of  the 
globe,  bringing  in  her  train  the  arts  and  sciences,  and 
shielding  them  by  her  protection  ;  she  founded  and  main- 
tained excellent  institutions  for  the  relief  of  all  the  misery, 
sickness,  and  poverty  of  life ;  she  rescued  from  squalor  and 

'  Jnscrutahili  Dei. 


1088  Leo  XlTl.  and  the  Social  Problem. 

degradation  the  poor  and  helpless  ;  she  showed  herself  every- 
where a  power  to  save  and  civilize  mankind.  Then,  after  a 
masterly  diagnosis  of  the  malady  afflicting  society  in  our 
days,  he  proceeds,  in  the  same  Encyclical,  to  state  his 
unalterable  conviction  that  the  cause  of  the  evils  of  modern 
times  lies  above  all  in  the  rejection  or  contemptuous  disre- 
gard of  the  authority  of  the  Catholic  Church ;  and  it  is 
precisely  because  they  are  well  aware  that  Catholicism  is 
the  bulwark  of  true  progress,  that  the  enemies  of  social 
order  and  social  peace  direct  all  their  efforts  towards  tearing 
its  principles  and  its  influence,  root  and  branch,  out  of  the 
midst  of  humanity.  But  any  contrivance  which  calls  itself 
civilization,  while  discarding  her  aid,  direction,  and  autho- 
rity, is  spurious  and  futile.  ''  Declinare  ab  instituto  corruptio 
est :  ad  institutum  redire,  sanatio  est."  ^  There  is  no  remedy 
for  society  without  the  Church  and  the  Holy  See ;  without 
her  the  life-principle  of  civilization  and  progress  is  dead,  and 
there  is  no  healing,  because  there  is  no  foundation  for 
health. 

It  is  strange,  indeed,  that  the  flippant  journalists  who 
pretend  to  have  turned  Eome  inside  out  to  discover  the 
possibility  of  a  "  humanized  papacy,"  should  not  have  made 
some  reference  to  these  persistent  claims  of  Leo  XIII.,  and 
of  all  his  predecessors.  Let  us  for  this  very  reason  bring 
these  claims  home  by  pursuing  the  parallel  suggested  by  our 
Holy  Father  between  the  past  and  the  present  of  society, 
with  special  reference  to  England. 

There  was  a  time,  then,  in  England  when  men  hearkened 
to  the  Church ;  when  the  Blessed  Sacrament  restrained 
their  earth-tending  passions  and  raised  their  thoughts  to  the 
more  real  world  that  lies  behind  these  material  veils  ;  ^  when 
penance,  public  and  private,  brought  the  oppressor  and 
defrauder  to  his  knees ;  when  rich  and  poor  associated  as 
brothers  in  the  house  of  their  Father.^  Those  were  the  days 
in  which  fraternity  and  equality  were  real  existing  facts,  and 
not   empty  names  for    impossible    ideals ;    when   the   free 

^  Rerum  Novarum. 

•  Fr.  Bridgett,  Uist.  of  Holy  Eucharint  in  Great  Brit.,  vol.  i.,  cap.  ult. 
2  Ihid.,  and  Dr.  Dollinger,  27ie  Church  and  the  Churches  (Eng.  trans.) 
page  153. 


Leo  XIII.  a7id  the  Social  Problem.  1089 

institutions  Englishmen  are  so  justly  proud  of  were  built  up 
and  consolidated  by  earnest  prelates  and  sons  of  Holy  Church. 
Out  of  barbarism,  within  a  brief  space,  had  grown  a  system 
of  strong  moral  control  by  a  spiritual  power  over  the  material 
works  necessary  for  man,  by  reason  of  the  original  law  of 
labouring  in  the  sweat  of  his  brow.  Painfully,  and  with 
opposition,  it  is  true,  that  system  was  established  and  main- 
tained ;  but  its  influence  was  felt  and  acknowledged  by  the 
noble  and  the  serf,  by  the  lord  and  the  villein,  to  their 
mutual  benefit,  as  well  spiritual  as  temporal,  so  long  as 
England  held  the  faith.  And  the  mediatorial  authority  of 
the  earthly  representative  of  Christ,  the  organ  of  the  highest 
spiritual  power,  intervened  to  stay  the  tyranny  of  the 
crowned  violators  of  order,  or  of  the  wealthy  oppressors  of 
the  poor,  and  to  raise  and  protect  the  down-trodden  and  che 
helpless.  "  He  [the  Popej  was  feared  by  delinquents  of  every 
class,"  says  Archbishop  Kenrick,  ''  by  the  haughty  baron 
and  the  proud  emperor,  as  well  as  by  the  humble  vassal; 
and  when  the  thunder  of  his  censure  rolled,  the  prison  doors 
flew  open,  the  hand  of  avarice  let  fall  the  wages  of  injustice, 
and  the  knees  of  the  oppressor  beat  together." 

"  Profecto  Decessores  Nostri  [declares  Leo  XHL]  i  ut  popu- 
lorum  bono  prospicerent,  omnis  generis  certamina  suscipere,  graves 
exantlare  labores,  seque  asperis  difficultatibus  obiicere  nunquam 
dubitarunt  :  et  defixis  in  coelo  oculis  neque  improborum  minis 
submisere  frontem,  neque  blanditiis  aut  poUicitationibus  se  ab 
oflficio  abduci  degeneri  assensu  passi  sunt.  Puit  haec  Apostolica 
Sedes,  quae  dilapsae  societatis  veteris  reliquias  coliegit  et 
coagmentavit ;  haec  eadem  fax  arnica  f uit,  qua  humanitas  Christiano 
rum  temporum  effulsit ;  fuit  haec  salutaris  anchora  inter  saevis- 
simas  tempestates  quels  humana  progenies  j aetata  est ;  sacrum 
fuit  concordiae  vinculum  quod  nationes  dissitas  moribusque 
diversas  inter  se  consociavit ;  centrum  denique  commune  fuit y  wide 
cum  fidei  et  religionis  doctrina,  turn  jpacis  et  rerum  gerendarum 
auspicia  ac  consilia  petebaiiticr." 

"  L'  interet  du  genre  humain  [says  Voltaire]  demande  un  frein 
qui  retienne  les  souverains  "  (capitalistes),  **  et  qui  met  a  couvert  la 
vie  des  peuples ;  ce  frein  de  la  Eeligion  aurait  pu  etre,  par  uno 
convention  universelle,  dans  la  main  des  Papes.  Ces  premiers 
pontifes,  en  ne  se  melant  des  querelles  temporelles  que  pour  les 

1  Inscrutahili  Dcu 
VOL.  XII.  8  Z 


1090  Leo  XIII.  and  the  Social  Problem. 

apaiser,  en  avertissant  les  rois  et  les  peuples  de  leurs  devoirs,  en 
reprenant  leurs  crimes,  en  reservant  les  excommunications  pour 
les  grands  attentats,  auraient  toujours  ete  regardes  comme  des 
images  de  Dieu  sur  la  terre.  Mais  les  homvoes  sont  rediiits  a 
n' avoir  pour  leur  defense  que  les  his  et  les  mosurs  de  leurs  pays  :  — 
lois  soiivent  meprisees,  moeurs  souvent  corrompiies  !  " 

If  now  we  go  forth  into  the  highways  and  byways  of  this 
great  industrial  nation,  whose  "industrial  organization  is  the 
most  highly  developed  organization  known  to  industry,"  ^  we 
shall  find  everywhere,  side  by  side  with  wealth  and  liberty, 
poverty  and  oppression ;  everywhere,  beneath  the  thin  crust 
of  habitual  security,  signs  of  a  seething  mass  of  volcanic 
matter,  threatening  a  speedy  and  ruinous  upheaval ;  every- 
where men  talking  of  social  danger;  everywhere  a  clang  of 
alarm  bells — the  ground  tone  of  which  is  "  Darkest  Eng- 
land " — sounding  through  the  length  and  breadth  of  a  land 
which  our  neighbours  have  long  been  bidden  to  look  on  as 
flowiag  with  the  milk  and  honey  of  unexampled  prosperity. 
And  the  reason  of  all  this  turmoil  will  assuredly  not  be  far  to 
seek.  In  the  lordly  mansion  of  the  millionaire  and  in  the 
wretched  hovel  of  the  sweater's  victim  ;  in  the  broad,  rich 
square  or  street  and  in  the  foul  alleys  and  slums ;  in  the 
palace  and  in  the  cottage,  we  shall  read  the  selfsame  tale 
and  see  the  selfsame  motive-power  in  operation.  Greed  of 
gain,  living  for  this  world  and  this  world  alone,  has  made 
Englishmen,  in  general,  a  race  of  money-hunters,  or  an 
enormous  tribe  of  mere  wealth-producing  automatons.  "  If 
we  would  do  anything  towards  the  betterment  of  our  country- 
men," says  J.  S.  Mill,  "  we  must  check  and  keep  within 
bounds  their  excessive  spirit  of  industriahsm."  There  is  no 
longer  any  higher  enduring  ideal,  any  more  constant  principle 
to  guide  and  elevate,  than  the  principle  of  self-interest,  which 
in  practice  is  too  often  synonymous  with  boundless  selfishness. 
True,  there  is  esprit  de  corps,  "  standard  ofrespectabihty,"  and 
all  the  other  constituents  of  "  the  Ethical  ideas  and  feelings, 
which  are  evolved  under  the  action  of  the  Social  and  Political 
Sanctions."    But  are  not  these  as  fickle  and  incompetent  for 

1  F.  A.  Walker,  PoUt.  Econ. 


Leo  XIII.  and  the  Social  Problem.  1091 

good  as  the  many-headed  monster,  human  respect,  from  which 
they  had  their  birth,  and  quite  unable  to  cope  with  the  Hon 
of  passion  within  the  human  heart  ?  The  purely  material 
standard,  which  as  a  nation  we  make  our  main  aim  and 
guide,  chokes  all  aspirations  after  a  loftier  existence  than  the 
life  of  sense ;  we  are  become,  as  a  nation,  essentially  of  the 
earth  earthy.^ 

This  divorce  of  social  and  industrial  life  from  religion 
and  morality,  and  the  consequent  degradation,  material  and 
moral,  into  which  as  a  nation  we  have  fallen,  is  due  to  the 
ideas,  the  doctrine,  and  the  practice  of  the  Eeformation. 
Kebellion  against  all  authority,  the  spurning  of  all  restraints, 
the  levelling  of  all  restrictions — such  were  the  leading  and 
essential  ideas  of  that  movement.  Mutual  support  and 
subjection,  mutual  service  and  protection,  which  should,  and 
did,  underlie  the  whole  constitution  of  Christian  States, 
were  thoroughly  alien  to  the  mind  of  the  Keformation. 

Protestantism,  moreover,  necessarily  led  to  a  lowering  of 
the  standard  of  national  morality  both  by  direct  teaching 
and  action,  and  by  indirect  influence. 

The  banishment  of  the  sacraments  from  among  the 
people  took  from  the  toilers  their  main  solace  in  their  hard 
lot,  by  depriving  them  of  almost  their  only  remedy  against 
the  paralysis  of  spirit  caused  by  the  wearisome  monotony  of 
their  labours,  while  it  removed  the  most  effective  restraint 
on  injustice  and  oppression  by  freeing  the  consciences  of 
employers  from  the  dread  of  penance  and  of  ecclesiastical 
censure;  to  say  nothing  of  the  sacramental  grace,  the  great 
antidote  against  sin,  of  which  they  were  simultaneously 
robbed. 

Then,  how  could  men  continue  to  look  upward  to  Heaven 
for  guidance  in  conduct,  or  for  true  courage  and  strength  in 
difticulties ;  how  could  they  say,  as  they  had  said  for  so  long, 
"  Prevent,  0  Lord,  our  actions  by  Thy  holy  inspirations," 

^  "  One  of  the  things,''  says  Mr.  Ruskm  {Sesame  and  Lilies)^  "  which  a 
great  nation  does  not  do — it  does  not  mock  Heaven  by  pretending  belief  in  a 
revelation  which  asserts  the  love  of  money  to  be  the  root  of  all  evil,  and 
declaring  at  the  same  time  that  it  is  actuated,  and  intends  to  be  actuated, 
in  all  chief  national  deeds  and  measures  by  no  other  love." 


109^  Leo  Xtlt.  and  the  Social  Frohlem. 

when  they  were  bidden  "  to  trust  in  Christ,  and  sin  boldly, 
for  faith  alone  sufficed"?  Who  does  not  see  the  depravity 
of  morals  that  would  necessarily  follow  on  the  admission  of 
principles  like  these?  Men  might  become  an  aggregation 
of  fighting  animals,  rending  and  tearing  one  another  for 
money  and  wealth,  yet  have  quiet  consciences,  "  for  the 
merits  of  Christ  covered  all  transgressions  !" 

Protestantism  rent  humanity  into  as  many  fractions  as 
there  were  individuals,  by  tearing  men  from  the  centre  of 
unity,  the  visible  head  of  Christ's  mystic  body,  and  by 
multiplying  opinions — allowing  each  member  of  society  to 
choose  what  doctrines  he  would ;  and,  consequently,  to 
follow  what  line  of  conduct  suited  his  fancy.  Private 
judgment  means  ultimate  anarchy,  as  well  in  the  practical 
working  of  governments  and  industrial  systems  as  in  faith 
and  speculative  science.  For,  be  it  observed,  the  method  of 
private  judgment — the  testing  of  divine  truths  by  the  sole 
light  of  human  reason — the  refusing  to  accept  divinely 
attested  facts,  save  when  proved  to  the  satisfaction  of  human 
understanding — has  led  on  by  a  natural  and  foreseen  result 
to  the  total  denial  of  Christianity,  of  revelation,  of  God;  and 
has  left  men  to  toss,  bewildered  and  blinded,  without  rudder 
or  compass,  amid  the  storm  and  spray  of  a  pantheistic, 
materialistic,  or  agnostic  atheism  :  '*  ut  ]d,Tiiipsum  rationales 
naturam  omnemque  justi  rectique  normam  negantes,  ima 
humanae  societatis  fundamenta  diruere  connitantur."^ 
*'  Phaeton,"  to  use  the  language  of  Cardinal  Newman,^ 
''has  got  into  the  chariot  of  the  sun;  we,  alas!"  he 
exclaims — while  Hegel  and  Buddha  and  *'  Liberahsmj" 
tear  and  rend  the  fragmentary  faith  still  left  to  his  beloved 
Oxford — **  can  only  look  on,  and  watch  him  down  the  steep 
of  heaven.  Meanwhile,  the  lands  which  he  is  passing  over 
suffer  from  his  driving." 

Protestantism  likewise  destroyed  the  ideal  of  purity  and 
virginity.     Its  hatred  of  devotion  to  our  Lady  shows  this 

1  Condi.  Vatican.;  Constitutio  de  Fide  Cathol.  Cf.  Card.  Manning, 
Four  Great  Evils  of  the  Day,  Lecture  I. ;  also  Fr.  J3ridgett,  Sir  Thomas  More^ 
page  215. 

2  Apologia. 


Leo  XIII.  and  the  Social  Problem.  1093 

beyond  dispute';  and  'the  contemptuous  utterance  we  fre- 
quently hear  from  Protestant  lips  of  the  name  of  the 
"Virgin"  is  a  striking  indication  of  the  lowering  effect 
which  the  religion  of  a  married  clergy  has  had  on  the  moral 
ideals  of  its  adherents.  "And  here  we  are  reminded  of  the  con- 
fraternities, societies,  and  religious  orders,  which  have  arisen 
by  the  Church's  authority,  and  the  piety  of  the  Christian 
people.  The  annals  of  every  nation  down  to  our  own  times 
testify  to  what  they  have  done  for  the  human  race."^  But 
the  Keformers  seemed  to  have  little  care  or  thought  for  the 
good  of  the  human  race !  The  monasteries  and  convents 
were  ruthlessly  swept  from  off  the  face  of  England,  and  thus 
the  possibility  of  living  up  to  the  evangelical  counsels — "  the 
full  liberty  which  all  possess  either  to  follow  the  counsel 
of  Jesus  Christ  as  to  virginity,  or  to  enter  into  the  bonds 
of  marriage,"^  was  taken  away — the  ideal  and  standard  of 
highest  Christian  perfection  was  destroyed  !  And  marriage 
itself,  the  great  mystery  representing  the  nuptials  of  the 
Word  with  our  human  nature  and  of  Christ  with  His 
Church — "the  sanctity  of  which,"  says  Balmez,^"is  the 
first  pledge  for  the  good  of  the  family,  the  foundation-stone 
of  true  civilization,"  has  been  dragged  through  the  mire; 
first,  by  the  conduct  and  teaching  of  the  Keformers  ;  and, 
lastly,  by  "  the  civil  laws,  which  have  been  so  much  at  fault 
in  this  respect  for  the  last  hundred  years." "*  And  what  of 
the  teachings  of  Malthus,  Mill,  and  the  leading  economists 
of  this  century  hereon?  Whatever  may  be  the  truth  of 
their  theory  of  population,  they  at  least  clearly  perceived  this 
glaring  defect  of  our  boasted  modern  civilization — that  there 
exists  no  effectual  barrier  against  the  basest  passions  and 
lowest  tendencies  of  humanity.  For  generations  they  have 
cried  aloud  for  "checks,"  for  remedies;  but  apparently 
all  in  vain.  The  bestial  horrors  of  large  overcrowded 
towns — the  curse  of  our  times — have  gone  on  increasing 
rather  than  diminishing.     What  shall   stay  the   disorder? 

1  Encyclical,  Rerum  Nnvarum. 

2  Ibidem. 

8  Protestantism  and  Catholicity. 

4  Encyclical,  Arcanum^  Feb.  10th,  1880, 


1094  Leo  XIII.  and  the  Social  Problem. 

The  "checks"  proposed  by  Malthus ?  They  have  already 
been  Weighed  in  the  balance  and  are  found  wanting  ;  'wanting, 
because  they  are  not  informed  by  the  principle  of  true 
religion ;  loanting,  because  they  do  not  recall  to  the  people 
the  sacraments,  which  are  the  chief  preservatives  against 
moral  corruption ;  loanting,  because  they  rely  on  a  cold, 
intellectual,  and  purely  natural  virtue. 

-Moreover,  by  the  introduction  of  Protestantism,  the  lifeless 
forms  of  a  spiritless  worship  succeeded  a  liturgy  which  had 
warmed  and  elevated  the  minds  of  the  people ;  and  in  keep- 
ing with  the  soul  of  that  worship  were  the  white- washed 
dreary  walls  of  such  churches  as  were  allowed  to  remain 
standing.  The  presence  of  the  Life  and  Light  of  the  world 
was  withdrawn  ;  the  centre  of  Christian  devotion,  the  sun 
that  warmed  and  inflamed  the  breasts  of  men  ;  what  wonder 
if  their  souls  were  chilled  and  frozen,  and  their  ''tongues 
clove  to  their  mouths,"  so  that  they  could  no  longer  utter 
songs  of  love  and  praise,  or  enter  into  the  sublime  worship 
paid  by  the  Church  to  her  Divine  Spouse. 

"  Thus  all  things  have  combined  [says  Dr.  Dollinger]  to 
exclude  the  poor  from  the  churches  of  England,  or  induce  them 
voluntarily  to  keep  away  ;  the  listless  form  of  a  service  consisting 
almost  wholly  of  readings  ;  the  space  taken  up  by  the  pews  of  the 
rich  ;  the  feelings  of  the  humbler  as  to  the  wretchedness  of  their 
attire  by  the  side  of  the  elegant  costumes  of  the  opulent,  and  then 
the  widening  separation  and  estrangement  between  these  different 
classes  .  .  .  The  church  is  the  house  of  the  poor,  in  which, 
if  it  is  anything  more  than  a  lecture-room,  they  feel  themselves 
happy ;  for  this  reason,  that  they  find  there  what  is  wanting  in 
their  confined  and,  mostly,  cheerless  homes— the  adornment  of 
pictures,  symbols,  ample  space,  the  solemn  influence  of  archi- 
tectural beauty  and  proportion,  tranquillity  and  silence  inspiring 
devotion ;  an  atmosphere  and  the  example  of  prayer.  Protestantism 
has  not  only  robbed  the  churches  it  permitted  to  remain  of  every 
ornament,  but  it  has  locked  and  bolted  them  up,  so  that  during 
the  week  no  one  can  pay  a  visit  to  the  church."^ 

"  It  has  been  well  said,"  writes  Father  Bridgett,  "  that 
throughout  the  Middle  Ages  works  of  art  were  to  the  people 
free   as   the  light   of  heaven   and   loveliness  of  nature,  to 

^  The  Church  and  the  Chitrches^ 


Leo  XIII.  and  the  Social  Prohlem.  1095 

declare  like  them  the  glory  of  God,  and  excite   the  piety  of 
His  people."^ 

Note  also  that  "  all  the  cheering  and  enlivening  Church 
festivals  that  had  been  allowed  to  the  people  in  Catholic 
times — processions,  rustic  fetes,  pilgrimages,  dramatic  repre- 
sentations and  ceremonies — were,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
abolished,  and  nothing  remained  but  the  sermon  read  out  of 
a  book,  the  liturgyjread  out  of  a  book]" — and  with  this  the  grim 
Calvinistic  suppression  of  every  social  sport  and  every  public 
amusement  on  the  Sunday,  "  now  transformed  into  a  Jewish 
Sabbath."     "  Merry  England  "  was  dead  ! 

Lastly,  if  there  is  one  thing  which  the  present  incessant 
cries  of  distress  and  alarm  prove  beyond  all  dispute,  it  is  this 
— that  the  poor  law  system  of  Protestant  England  is  an 
egregious  failure.  Instead  of  that  relief  of  Lazarus,  which, 
as  Father  Gasquet  well  points  out,^  is  prompted  by  the 
impulse  of  Catholic  charity,  is  based  on  the  commands  of 
the  Gospel,  the  examples  of  the  Apostles,  the  teaching  of  the 
Christian  Church,  the  instincts  of  humanity,  and  the 
universal  practice  of  every  civilized  community — the  English 
Dives  has  instituted  a  State-paid  organization,  with  its 
awkward,  blundering,  imperfect,  and  expensive  agencies 
"  for  executing  a  portion  of  those  duties  to  society  which 
flowed  naturally  and  unobtrusively  from  the  religious  com- 
munities" that  flourished  in  the  land  of  Mary's  dowry.  "  At 
the  present  day,"  says  Leo  XIII.,'' "  there  are  many  who, 
like  the  heathen  of  old,  blame  and  condemn  the  Church — 
the  common  mother  of  rich  and  poor — for  this  beautiful 
charity" — *'the  heroism  of  charity,  of  religious  orders,  and 
other  institutions  which  she  has  established  for  help  and 
mercy."  "  They  would  substitute  in  its  place,"  he  con- 
tinues, ''  a  system  of  State-organized  relief.  But  no  human 
methods  will  ever  supply  for  the  devotion  and  self-sacrifice 
of  Christian  charity.  Charity  as  a  virtue  belongs  to  the 
Church ;  for  it  is  no  virtue  unless  it  is  drawn  from  the  Sacred 


1  History  of  the  Holy  Eucharist  in  Great  Britain^  vol.  ii.,  pp.  107, 108. 
*  Henry  VI II.  and  the  English  Monasteries,  vol.  ii.,  page  505, 
5  Uerum  Novancm. 


1096  Leo  XIII.  and  the  Social  Problem. 

Heart  of  Jesus  Christ;  and  he  who  turns  his  back  on  the 
Church  cannot  be  near  to  Christ." 

The  spohatiori  of  the  poor — i.e.,  the  violent  or  fraudulent 
robbery  of  "  the  patrimony  which  the  Church  has  guarded 
with  religious  care  as  the  inheritance  of  the  poor" — was  the 
necessary  result  of  that  first  step  towards  the  introduction 
of  Protestantism  into  this  country — the  suppression  of  the 
monasteries.  The  transference  of  Church  and  monastic 
estates  in  wholesale  parcels  into  the  hands  of  laymen  who 
cared  more  for  the  receipt  of  their  rents,  or  else  for  the 
fattening  of  their  beasts  and  the  well-being  of  their  horses, 
than  for  the  old  tenants  of  the  abbey  lands  ;  the  hurling  of 
thousands  of  peasant  proprietors  and  monastic  dependents 
into  helpless  pauperism ;  the  sudden  stoppage  of  demand 
for  the  products  of  the  trades  and  handicrafts  nourished 
under  the  shadow  of  the  monastery  and  the  Church  ;^  the 
conversion  of  large  tracts  of  land,  which  hitherto  had  main- 
tained a  numerous  agricultural  population,  into  wild  wastes 
of  pasturage,  so  that  at  last  "  the  sheep  devoured  men  ;"  the 
appropriation  by  a  grasping  mushroom  landlordism  of  the 
village  commons  and  township  lands,  whereon  the  poor 
artisan  might  maintain  his  small  live  stock  ;  the  calling-in 
of  all  expenditure  upon  the  poor — either  by  way  of  hospi- 
tality or  relief — simultaneously  with  the  marriage  of  the 
clergy  and  the  enrichment  of  the  nobihty — such  were  the 
first  beginnings  of  "  Darkest  England." 

"  But,"  says  Father  Gasquet,^  *'  beyond  this  consumption 
by  the  '  classes'  of  the  heritage  of  their  poorer  brethren  at 
the  time  of  the  suppression,  an  additional  and  heavy  wrong 
was  done  them  by  branding  poverty  with  the  mark  of  crime. 
To  be  poor  was  not  before  regarded  as  a  reproach  in  itself, 
but  rather  upon  every  Christian  principle  poverty  was  held 
in  honour."  The  Church  has  ever  taught  as  Leo  XIII.  now 
teaches — and  her  action  has  been  in  accord  with  her  teaching 
— "  that  in  God's  sight  poverty  is  no  disgrace,  and  that  there 
is  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of  in  seeking  one's  bread  by  labour." 

^  Father  Bridgett,as  above,  vol.  ii. 

^  Henry  VIU.  arid  the  EnfjHsh  Monasteries,  as  above. 


Leo  XIII.  and  the  Social  Problem.  1097 

"  Jesus  Christ  calls  the  poor  blessed ;  He  lovingly  invites 
those  in  labour  and  grief  to  come  to  Him  for  solace ;  and 
He  displays  the  tenderest  charity  to  the  lowly  and  the 
oppressed.  .  .  .  Thus  the  separation  which  pride  would 
make  tends  to  disappear,  nor  will  it  be  difficult  to  make  rich 
and  poor  join  hands  in  friendly  concord."  Such,  however, 
were  not  the  ideas  realized  by  Protestantism  either  at  its 
dawn  or  at  any  point  in  its  course.  "  To  Henry  VIII.," 
continues  Fr.  Gasquet,  "belongs  the  singular  distinction  .  .  . 
of  having  invented  literally,  no  less  than  figuratively,  '  the 
badge  of  poverty,'  and  of  being  the  first  to  dress  a  *  pauper' 
in  a  '  pauper's'  dress.  It  may  fairly  be  doubted  whether  any 
single  act  of  monarch  or  statesman  ever  did  so  much  to 
vulgarize  the  character  of  an  entire  nation  as  Henry's,  when 
he  bestowed  ninepence  a-week  on  each  of  thirteen  poor  men, 
hitherto  supported  by  the  monks  of  Gloucester,  on  condition 
that  their  caps  and  cloaks  should  bear  a  badge  emblazoned 
with  a  token  of  the  royal  munificence."  What  Henry 
initiated,  Edward  and  Elizabeth  continued  and  perfected. 
The  very  first  steps  taken  by  Edward's  Government  to 
introduce  Calvinism  into  the  land  was  to  establish  by  law 
(1548)  a  regular  state  of  slavery.  '*  Then  those  who  had 
seized  the  inheritance  proclaimed  the  poverty  of  those  they 
had  robbed  a  crime.  Merciless  and  monstrous  statutes 
enacted  by  the  spoliators  was  the  remedy  by  which  it  was 
sought  to  reduce  the  disease  {i.  e.,  poverty  and  consequent 
degradation),  and  the  rulers  of  the  State  did  not  shrink  from 
introducing  slavery,  and  inflicting  even  death  for  the  crime 
of  poverty,  of  which  they  had  been  the  patent  origin." 
"  Under  Elizabeth,"  writes  Dr.  Dollinger,  "  these  laws  were 
renewed,  and  even  boys  of  fourteen  or  fifteen  years  old  were  to 
be  branded  if  they  begged  for  alms.  If  they  were  beyond 
eighteen,  they  might,  on  being  arrested  for  a  second  time,  be 
put  to  death.  In  the  year  1597,  severe  whipping  or  condem- 
nation to  the  galleys  was  substituted  for  branding."  *'  At 
the  same  time,  the  burden  of  the  poor  rates  was  first  imposed, 
by  which  free  Christian  charity  was  degraded  into  a  legal 
obligation,  and  a  compulsory  oppressive  tax  substituted  for 
a  willing  gift."    And  what  is  it  we  have  set  up,  by  means 


1098  Leo  XIII.  and  the  Social  Problem, 

of  this  enforced  charity,  to  take  the  place  of  the  monastic 
system  ?  The  workhouses !  by  which,  as  Dr.  DoUinger 
remarked,  this  much  is  attained,  that  the  working  classes 
will  endure  the  greatest  privation,  and  live  in  the  most 
disgusting  filth,  rather  than  go  voluntarily  into  ''the  house  !" 
Mr.  Kuskin's  words  in  this  connection  are  scathing,  indeed  ; 
and  not  less  just,  when  we  think  of  modern  Anglicanism, 
which,  by  aping  and  by  veering,  tries  to  cover  over  its  ugly 
breach  of  continuity  with  the  past,  and  to  escape  from  the 
consequences  of  the  misdeeds  of  its  founders.  "  The  dramatic 
Christianity  of  the  organ  and  the  aisle,  of  dawn-service  and 
twilight  revival.  ...  we  are  triumphant  in,  and  draw 
back  the  hem  of  our  robes  from  the  touch  of  the  heretics  who 
dispute  it.  But  to  do  a  piece  of  common  Christian  righteous- 
ness in  a  plain  English  word  or  deed ;  to  make  Christian  law 
any  rule  of  life,  and  found  one  national  act  or  hope  thereon 
— we  know  too  well  what  our  faith  comes  to  for  that  !  You 
might  sooner  get  lightning  'out  of  incense  smoke  than  true 
action  or  passion  out  of  your  modern  English  religion.  You 
had  better  get  rid  of  the  smoke  and  the  organ-pipes  both  ; 
leave  them  and  the  Gothic  windows  and  the  painted  glass  to 
the  property  man  ;  give  up  your  carburetted  hydrogen  ghost 
in  one  healthy  expiration,  and  look  after  Lazarus  at  the 
door-step."  "It  is  the  Reformation,  as  it  is  now  acknow- 
ledged," concludes  Dr.  Dollinger,  "  that  has  brought  upon 
the  English  people,  as  its  permanent  consequence,  a  legally 
existing  and  officially  established  pauperism." 

Where,  then,  is  the  change  of  front  in  the  action  of  the 
Church  ?  She  has  ever  been,  in  heart  and  action,  what  she 
was  when  it  was  said  of  her  children,  "  How  these  Christians 
love  one  another  !"  she  has  ever  made  it  her  aim  to  cement 
the  brotherhood  of  man,  and  her  very  name  connotes  liberty, 
fraternity,  and  equality — yes,  even  the  liberty,  fraternity,  and 
equality  ''  of  the  sons  of  God  and  the  co-heirs  of  Christ ;" 
she  has  ever  sought  to  sustain  and  elevate  the  poor  and 
ignorant ;  she  has  ever  relieved  and  consoled  the  suffering 
and  oppressed  ;  she  has  ever  defended  the  rights  and  dignity 
of  labour  ;  she  has  ever  jealously  guarded  and  sanctified 
domestic  happiness  by  preserving  through  persecution  ijnto 


Why  and'How  the  Irish  Language  is  to  he  Preserved.  1099 

blood  the  sacred  character  of  marriage  and  the  rights  of  the 
family ;  in  short,  she  has  ever  aided  and  directed  the  strug- 
gling onward  march  of  humanity  ;  "  and  unto  the  poor  the 
Gospel  hath  been  preached."  On  the  other  hand,  it  was  the 
Eeformation,  it  was  Protestantism,  that  created  the  present 
chasm  between  the  "  classes"  and  the  "  masses"  ;  it  was  the 
Eeformation  that  degraded  the  "  masses,"  by  trampling  them 
under  foot,  and  depriving  them  of  all  the  elevating  influences 
which  tend  to  comfort  and  ennoble  the  fallen  race  of  man. 
The  conclusion,'  therefore,  remains,  that  as  the  disease 
entered  into  the  body  of  society  by  a  departure  from  the 
principles  and  pohcy  of  Catholicism,  the  remedy  must  be 
sought  by  a  return  to  the  same  :  "  if  society  is  to  be  cured 
now,  in  no  other  way  can  it  be  cured,  but  by  a  return  to  the 
(Christian  life  and  the  Christian  institutions  "  of  the  Catholic 
Church.  Declinare  ah  instituto  corruptio  est :  ad  institutum 
redire  sanatio}  A.  Hinsley,  B.A. 


WHY  AND   HOW  THE   lEISH   LANGUAGE   IS   TO 
BE  PEESEEVED. 

AT  the  recent  Catholic  Congress  at  Malines,  held  to 
promote  the  interests  of  the  Catholic  religion,  one  of 
the  subjects  on  which  the  delegates  were  addressed  was  the 
preservation,  cultivation,  and  extension  of  the  Flemish 
language.  At  a  public  meeting,  held  in  connection  with  the 
congress,  the  people  were  addressed  in  Flemish  by  a  cardinal 
archbishop,  and  by  a  number  of  distinguished  ecclesiastics 
and  laymen.  Now,  the  position  of  the  Flemish  language 
at  present  is  much  the  same  as  the  position  of  the  Irish. 
Neither  of  them  is  "the  language  of  court  or  bar  or  busi- 
ness." As  English  has  threatened  to  extinguish  Irish,  so 
French  has  threatened  to  extinguish  Flemish.  As  a  minority 
language,  Flemish  must  be  in  a  much  worse  position  than 
Irish ;  while  Irish,  too,  has  a  tremendous  geographical 
advantage.  If  the  Catholic  clergy  and  laity  of  the  Low 
1  Cf.  Jiemm  Novanm, 


1100  Why  and  How  the  Irish  Language  is  to  be  Preserved, 

Countries,  in  council  assembled,  adopt  the  cause  of  their 
mother-tongue  on  national  and  patriotic  grounds,  why  should 
not  the  not  less  patriotic  clergy  of  Ireland  do  likewise  ? 

To  one  even  partially  conversant  with  the  facts  of  the 
case,  it  must  seem  a  truism  to  say  that  the  future  of  the 
Irish  language  is  almost  wholly  in  the  hands  of  the  Irish 
clergy.  To  none  can  this  fact  be  more  evident  than — if  they 
consider  it — to  the  clergy  themselves.  It  is  not  only  that  the 
entire  body  of  the  clergy  have  the  power  of  causing  the 
Irish  language  to  flourish  or  languish  or  perish  all  over 
Ireland,  but  each  individual  priest  within  the  limits  of  his 
charge,  if  it  includes  a  number  of  Irish-speaking  people,  has 
a  large  share  of  that  power.  There  is  no  other  body,  and 
there  are  no  other  individuals,  in  possession  of  any  such 
influence.  Those  who  are  placed  in  such  a  position  of 
power  with  regard  to  any  important  intellectual  and  social 
element,  such  as  a  language  and  a  literature  must  always 
be,  must  feel  that  upon  them  rests  the  responsibility  of 
deciding  what  is  the  use  to  be  made  of  their  position.  It  is 
the  privilege  of  the  writer  to  place  before  the  Irish  clergy, 
through  an  exceptionally  favourable  medium,  a  few  con- 
siderations embodying  a  portion  of  the  views  of  a  large 
number  of  thinking  Irishmen,  and  concerning  an  object 
instinctively  dear  to  the  hearts  of  the  whole  people. 

In  considering  the  propriety  of  any  course  of  public 
conduct,  it  will  be  of  great  use,  and  will  furnish  a  criterion 
of  unequalled  justice  and  clearness,  if  we  endeavour  to 
realize  how  our  action  will  appear  in  the  light  of  history 
and  in  the  eyes  of  posterity.  Submitting  the  question  of  the 
Irish  language  to  this  test,  we  ask  ourselves,  if  we  permit 
the  Irish  language  in  this  generation  to  be  extinguished, 
or  to  be  weakened  beyond  hope  of  recovery,  what  will  the 
Irishmen  who  come  after  us  think  of  us  ?  Perhaps  we  may 
infer  the  answer  from  the  spirit  of  Ireland  beyond  the  seas. 
In  America,  Australia,  and  even  England,  we  find  Irishmen, 
under  the  impulse  of  something  akin  to  the  pain  of  loss, 
turning  lovingly  and  earnestly  to  the  cultivation  of  their 
mother-tongue ;  while  those  at  home,  who  enjoy  every  oppor- 
tunity, seem  to  lie  under  a  spell  of  impenetrable  apathy —the 


Why  and  How  the  Irish  Language  is  to  he  Preserved.  1101 

better  their  opportunities,  in  fact,  the  greater  their  apathy. 
So,  in  America,  our  countrymen  have  societies,  and  classes, 
and  periodicals  devoted  to  the  culture  of  Irish,  whereas  we  in 
Ireland  cannot  decently  support  a  quarterly  journal  devoted 
to  the  same  purpose.  Of  the  thousands  upon  thousands  of 
Irish  books  published  within  the  last  generation,  a  fraction 
only  remains  in  Ireland :  the  rest  has  been  exported  to 
satisfy  the  still  unsatisfied  demand  of  greater  Ireland.  It 
cannot  then  be  deemed  an  exaggeration  to  say  that  if  it  were 
possible  that  any  body  of  Irishmen,  through  their  action  or 
inaction,  should  cause  the  national  speech  to  pass  into  the 
list  of  dead  languages,  they  would  forfeit  the  esteem  and 
affection  of  posterity.  We  will  not  contemplate  such  a 
possibility.  Let  us  prefer  to  believe  that  the  cause  of 
inaction  is  only  a  hope  for  better  times,  and  that  there  is 
still  the  will  to  act,  when  an  easier  way  is  found.  It  is  well 
to  hope,  but  foolish  to  wait  for  realization,  and  it  is  not  a 
prudent  course  to  make  the  will  subservient  to  the  way. 

The  duty  of  the  moment  is,  therefore,  immediate  action, 
energetic  action,  united  action,  individual  action.  I  do 
not  fear  to  call  it  a  duty ;  nor  do  I  deem  it  necessary  to 
argue  the  grounds  of  its  obligation,  at  least  with  Irishmen. 
Other  nations  do  not  stop  to  bandy  dialectics  over  questions 
in  which  the  national  instinct  points  the  way;  and  when  I 
find  Irishmen  fencing  over  this  question,  it  seems  to  me  that 
their  real  reason  is  mere  ignavia — a  kind  of  selfish,  courage- 
less,  apathetic,  unsacrificing  sloth.  With  such  men,  it  is 
in  vain  to  argue.  On  no  social  or  mental  question  is  it 
possible  to  reason  to  demonstration,  and  nothing  short  of  a 
syllogism  will  suffice.  The  only  really  effective  argument  is 
action  and  example. 

On  the  clergy,  however,  the  Irish  language  has  some 
special  claims  that  appeal  to  them  over  the  heads  of  ordinary 
Irishmen,  and  for  this  reason  they  are  open  to  a  "special 
appeal,  such  as  I  am  permitted  to  make. 

First,  as  has  been  said,  and  must  be  admitted,  they  alone 
practically  can  carry  out  what  the  laity  can  only  aspire  to,  or 
but  weakly  and  partially  effect.  The  laity  who  commonly 
speak  Irish,  are  powerless  to  this  end.    The  students  of  Irish 


1102     WJuj  and  How  the  Irish  Language  is  he  Preserved. 

are  usually  men  of  little  means  and  much  work.  The 
leisured  classes  do  nothing,  and  nothing  is  expected  of  them. 
Once,  then,  that  the  duty  of  preserving  and  cultivating  the 
language  is  recognised,  its  obhgation  must  be  seen  to  affect 
those  most  that  have  most  power  and  best  opportunities 
towards  its  fulfilment. 

In  the  next  place,  the  whole  control  of  the  education — 
primary,  intermediate,  and  advanced — of  Celtic  Ireland  is  in 
the  hands  of  the  clergy.  Hitherto,  every  opportmiity  to 
serve  the  Irish  language  by  means  of  education  has  been 
neglected;  while  Welshmen,  by  the  same  means,  have 
permanently  established  their  national  speech. 

To  the  priesthood,  as  the  moral  guides  of  the  people, 
apart  from  their  position  of  ordinary  influence,  the  Irish 
language  can  justly  commend  itself.  The  mass  of  Irish 
classical  literature  is  the  work  of  ecclesiastics.  The  first 
connection  of  the  Church  with  Irish  literature  was,  as 
antiquaries  sadly  realize,  to  free  it,  as  far  as  possible,  from 
everything  that  might  link  the  people  with  their  pagan  past, 
and  to  make  it  the  vehicle  of  Christian  ideas.  That  literary 
revolution,  once  accomplished,  was  followed  up  with  per- 
severance and  success ;  so  that  writer  and  cleric  became  in 
Ireland  convertible  terms.  Bishops,  abbots,  priests,  and 
friars,  were  the  poets,  romancists,  historians,  and  divines  of 
Ireland,  the  authors,  compilers,  and  transcribers  of  the 
''  countless  multitudes  of  the  books  of  Eire,"  from  the  times 
of  Patrick  and  Fiac  and  Colum  Cille  to  the  times  of  the 
Four  Masters,  Keating,  and  O'Gallagher.  Though  a  great 
part  of  the  priesthood  have  allowed  their  tradition  to  lapse, 
the  succession  cannot  yet  be  said  to  be  broken.  Hence  it 
appears  that  between  the  Irish  priesthood  and  the  Irish 
language  there  exists  an  ancient  ^evia,  or  perennial  bond  of 
friendship,  a  tie  as  sacred  as  any  that  can  hold  between  men 
and  things.  It  assorts  ill  with  the  spirit  of  that  historic 
connection  to  allow  the  Irish  language,  now  undoubtedly 
a  strong  link  with  the  Christian  past,  to  get  rusty,  and 
ultimately  to  break  altogether. 

The  destiny  of  Ireland  in  the  future,  as  in  the  past,  seems 
to  be  that  of  a  teaching  nation.  As  the  overflow  of  population 


Why  and  How  the  Irish  Language  is  to  be  Preserved.  1103 

carried  other  races  over  the  globe,  so  the  overflow  of  national 
mental  and  moral  advance  has  sent,  and,  we  believe,  will 
again  send,  a  stream  of  teachers  and  preachers  from  Ireland 
across  the  seas.  But  to  ensure  this  result,  among  many 
other  desirable  results,  it  will  clearly  be  necessary  to  pre- 
serve the  national  character  from  any  considerable  fusion  or 
admixture  with  the  character  of  another  less  mentally  active, 
less  self-sacrificing,  and  less  morally  zealous  race.  Such 
fusion  would  naturally  have  the  effect  of  causing  the  charac- 
teristics of  the  more  numerous  and  powerful  element  of  the 
mixture  to  prevail ;  and,  as  in  our  case,  when  the  disposition 
of  the  one  people  is  as  diametrically  opposed  as  it  can  be  to 
the  disposition  of  the  other,  the  character  that  prevails  must 
almost  extinguish  the  character  that  succumbs.  The  history 
of  Boman  Gaul  is  in  many  ways  parallel  to  the  hypothetical 
future  history  of  Ireland  as  we  are  contemplating  it.  One 
of  the  main  aims  of  Koman  policy  was,  we  are  told,  to  extin- 
guish the  national  language  of  the  Gauls  ;  the  Romans,  with 
their  keen  political  insight,  plainly  discerning  the  importance 
of  language  as  a  political  factor.  "With  the  loss  of  their 
language,  the  Gauls  lost  their  nationality  ;  with  the  loss  of 
their  nationality,  they  lost  their  national  spirit  and  their  other 
splendid  characteristics ;  so  that  at  the  break  up  of  the 
empire  they  were  left  nerveless,  inert,  helpless,  at  the  mercy 
of  their  barbarian  neighbours.  We  Irish  have  resisted 
fusion  for  seven  centuries,  with  the  result  that  we  are  still  a 
living,  energetic,  self-reliant  nation,  and  as  capable  of  doing 
a  nation's  work  as  on  the  day  that  Strongbow  first  landed  in 
Ireland.  Fusion  was  prevented  first  by  the  difference  of 
language  and  by  physical  resistance  ;  afterwards  by  difference 
of  language  and  religion ;  latterly  by  religion  alone.  Were 
this  last  difference  removed,  as  it  may  yet  be,  most  pro- 
bably by  our  own  influence,  it  is  a  mere  illusion  to  hope  that 
the  national  character  could,  without  some  other  defence, 
withstand  the  forces  of  assimilation.  Politics  will  not  form 
such  a  defence,  for  politics  follow  the  forces  of  the  time. 
Physical  hostihty  is  not  to  be  dreamt  of.  Clearly,  unless  the 
national  character  remains  to  attract  the  national  aspira- 
tions and  leaven  the  national  life,  Ireland  must  become  a 


1104    Why  and  How  the  Irish  Language  is  to  be  Preserved. 

mere  geographical  expression.  To  extinguish  the  Irish 
language  is  no  longer,  as  it  once  was,  an  object  of  positive 
policy,  and  the  advocacy  or  opposal  of  its  claims  is  no  longer 
an  affair  of  politics.  Nevertheless,  it  does  not  behove  the 
Irish  priesthood,  by  any  attitude,  active  or  passive,  to  be  the 
effective  instruments  of  a  policy  now,  at  least  ostensibly? 
relegated  with  the  penal  laws  to  the  barbarous  past. 

The  moral  tone  in  which  Irish  classical  literature  excels 
all  literatures  constitutes  another  claim  of  the  Irish  language 
on  the  Irish  clergy.  As  the  literature  of  Ireland  must  long 
remain  in  their  hands,  it  will  be  in  their  power  to  keep  it 
free  from  the  irreligion  and  immorality  and  folly  that  pervade 
other  modern  literatures  ;  and  not  least  among  them  English 
literature.  Men  rarely  take  up  a  newspaper  or  a  periodical 
now-a-days  in  which  there  is  not  something  that  they  would 
shrink  from  placing  before  the  eyes  of  their  families.  Three- 
fourths  of  the  books  that  issue  from  printing-presses  are 
either  dangerous  to  faith  or  morals,  or  at  least  calculated  to 
develop  a  heated  and  diseased  imagination  at  the  expense  of 
the  will  and  understanding  ;  for  the  average  books  of  fiction, 
which  the  publishers'  advertisements  show  to  be  in  excess  of 
all  other  publications,  are  of  that  character.  The  craving 
for  these  is  becoming  daily  a  more  common  disease,  and  daily 
creeping  more  among  the  lower  and  wider  strata  of  society. 
For  all  this,  the  advocate  of  the  Irish  language  has  to  offer 
a  literature  healthy  as  mountain  air  in  the  past,  and  capable 
of  being  preserved  so  in  the  future. 

Should  the  Irish  language  be  wholly  supplanted  by 
English,  it  has  not  been  shown  that  any  advantages,  mate- 
rial or  otherwise,  would  accrue  to  those  who  now  speak  it ; 
for  the  simple  reason  that  none  can  accrue.  All  they  want 
with  English  at  present  is,  either  to  seem  what  they  have  come 
falsely  to  regard  as  educated,  or  to  be  able  to  emigrate.  Ask 
them,  and  they  will  tell  you  so.  It  is  not  to  enable  them- 
selves to  buy  or  sell,  or  perform  their  daily  callings,  that 
they  desire  to  know  English.  Were  they  even  a  little 
instructed  m  their  own  tongue,  they  would  never  know  the 
loss  of  English,  and  I  go  on  the  supposition  that  they  should 
be  and  shall  yet  be  so  instructed.     This  unreasoning  fear 


Why  and  How  the  Irish  Language  is  to  he  Preserved.  1105 

about  material  prosperity  is,  perhaps,  one  of  the  strongest 
allies — stronger  because  not  hitherto  firmly  faced — of  this 
last  century's  mournful  apathy. 

But  it  is  daily  becoming  more  unjust  to  complain  of 
apathy  on  this  head,  especially  as  regards  the  clergy.  While 
the  priesthood  of  America,  of  France,  of  Germany,  and  of 
other  countries,  are  yearly  developing  stronger  national 
proclivities,  recognising  that  duty  does  not  forbid  them 
to  identify  themselves  with  their  peoples,  the  priesthood  of 
Ireland  are  not  likely  to  be  behindhand.  So,  they  are 
coming  to  recognise  that  the  Irish  language  plays  no  small 
part  in  the  Irishman's  reveries,  and  they  are  in  ever-increas- 
ing numbers  endeavouring  to  make  of  those  dreams  a  reality. 
The  day  of  cosmopolitanism,  as  opposed  to  patriotism,  is 
gone ;  for  it  is  seen  to  be  as  unnatural  to  peoples  as  com- 
munism is  to  individuals.  That  sentiment  was  never  at 
home  among  Irish  priests.  Their  patriotism  is  undoubted. 
And  of  all  the  phases  of  patriotism,  they  can  perceive  that 
the  advocacy  of  the  national  language  is  the  purest  and 
most  remote  from  any  possibility  of  misdirection.  Since 
the  movement  in  favour  of  the  Irish  language  first  took 
shape,  the  names  of  bishops  and  -priests  have  been  at  the 
head  of  it.  At  the  present  time,  the  most  earnest  workers 
in  the  movement  are  ecclesiastics.  Numbers  of  the  clergy 
who  are  engaged  in  the  work  of  education  are  now  turning 
their  attention  for  the  first  time  to  Irish.  This  is  especially 
the  case  in  Dublin.     The  poet's  prediction — 

"  Beidh  an  Ghaedhealg  fa  mheas  mh6r 
I  n-Athcliath  na  bh-fleasg  bh-fion61  " — 

is  nearing  its  fulfilment. 

It  is  remarkable  that,  in  general,  those  who  have  known 
Irish  from  infancy  are  less  enthusiastic  in  the  cause  than 
those  who  have  had  to  labour  for  its  attainment.  The 
reason  probably  is,  that  in  their  infancy  Irish  was  a  thing 
despised.  "You  see,"  said  a  good  speaker  of  Irish  to  the 
writer,  "  we  find  it  hard  to  feel  any  enthusiasm  about  the 
language  that  the  little  children  talk."  This  would  be  a 
very  good  reason  why  all  Englishmen  should  cultivate 
VOL.  XII.  4  a 


1106  Whi^ahd  How  the  Irish  Language  is  to  he  Preserved, 

Dutch,  or  all  Frenchmen  German,  to  the  exclusion  of  their 
native  tongue.  Such  a  ridiculous  idea  is  unworthy  of 
intelligent  men.  Let  us  hope  that  the  "West  will  no  longer 
allow  the  East  to  take  the  lead  in  this  movement. 

Ataong  many  omens  of  good  fortune  for  the  Irish 
language,  the  clearest  is  the  restoration  of  the  Chair  of 
Celtic  in  Maynooth.  Father  O'Growney  has  a  great  work 
before  him.  Fortified  with  an  ample  knowledge  of  Gaelic, 
new  and  old,  and  acquainted  with  the  wide  range  of  Irish 
speech  and  literature,  availing  himself  of  the  fruits  of  the 
labours  of  native  and  foreign  genius,  and  able  to  demonstrate 
the  high  value  as  a  mental  exercise  of  Celtic  studies,  he  will  be 
in  a  position  to  undo,  in  a  great  degree,  the  evils  of  the  past, 
and  to  inspire  the  future  guardians  of  the  Irish  tongue  with  a 
worthy  purpose  and  ideal.  And  when  the  diocesan  colleges 
fall  into  line,  and  send  up  their  alumni  already  primed  with 
Irish  lore  to  Maynooth,  the  importance  of  the  Irish  pro- 
fessorship there  will  be  immensely  increased.  It  is  but 
natural  to  hope  that  this  step  will  be  followed  by  the 
institution  of  Irish  classes  in  those  Catholic  colleges  where 
at  present  unhappily  there  are  none. 

Should  these  hopes  be  fulfilled,  there  can  be  no  fear  for 
the  future  of  Irish.  The  people,  even  those  who  have  lost 
the  use  of  Irish  generations  ago,  have  a  strong  natural  love 
for  their  native  tongue,  and  the  influence  of  the  cultivation 
of  Irish  by  those  in  higher  station  is  certain  to  have  as 
great  an  effect  for  good  with  them,  as  the  past  neglect  on 
the  part  of  the  same  class  has  had  for  evil. 

The  scarcity  of  really  good  Irish  educational  books — texts, 
grammars,  phrase-books,  dictionaries,  and  "  methods" — 
affords  good  ground  at  present  for  complaint.  ,But  it  is  well- 
known  that  now-a-days,  both  in  quantity  and  quality,  the 
supply  of  educational  works  follows  almost  immediately  the 
demand.  Another  great  drawback  at  present  is  that  in  the 
schools,  high  and  low,  Irish  is  not  a  "  paying  subject."  For 
this  the  educationalists  who  do  not  teach  Irish,  and  the  parents 
who  do  not  demand  for  their  children  instruction  in  Irish, 
are  themselves  to  blame.  Before  a  proper  demand,  backed 
tip  by  the  living  facts,  the  most  reactionary  Board  or  Senate 


Why  and  How  the  Irish  Language  is  to  he  Preserved,  1107 

could  not  refuse  for  a  single  year  to  place  the  Irish  language 
on  a  "paying"  footing.  These  are  questions  that  should 
recommend  themselves  to  the  Catholic  headmasters,  and  to 
the  Irish  public  in  general. 

There  is  one  other  direction  in  which  it  is  easy  to  strike 
a  good  blow  for  Irish.  Every  society  of  young  Irishmen 
should  be  induced  to  establish  an  Irish  class  for  its  members  ; 
and  the  young  men's  clubs  in  Gaelic-speaking  parts  should 
be  induced  to  conduct  their  deliberations  in  the  native 
vernacular.  If  the  "young  men  of  Ireland"  could  be  got 
to  take  these  steps,  they  would  have  done  something  to 
show  that  they  are  more  than  mere  lip-Irishmen.  It  will 
not  do  for  those  of  us  who  unhappily  have  not  been  born  to 
the  use  of  our  mother-tongue  to  excuse  ourselves  from  all 
share  in  the  work  of  preserving  and  cultivating  it.  If  we 
have  the  opportunity,  we  should  avail  of  it  to  learn  Irish; 
for,  as  Father  Donlevy  quaintly  but  truly  wrote,  "  Irishmen 
without  Irish  is  an  incongruity  and  a  great  bull."  If  we 
cannot  learn  Irish,  we  can  at  least  stand  up  for  it. 

Two  extremes  the  student  and  the  teacher  of  Irish 
should  avoid — submersion  in  the  depths  of  philology  and 
stranding  on  the  muddy  shallows  of  colloquialism.  Some 
students  of  Irish  tend  to  undervalue  the  modern  idiom, 
because,  forsooth,  it  is  not  so  "  Indo-European  "  as  the  Old 
Irish.  Others  again,  through  ignorance,  substitute  collo- 
quial usage  for  the  correct  historical  principles  of  grammar ; 
and  not  a  few  are  fond  of  setting  up  the  usage  and 
pronunciation  of  their  own  locality  against  reason,  grammar, 
authority,  and  general  observance.  It  is  such  men  that 
have  made  the  cheaply-earned  name  of  "  Irish  scholar  "  a 
title  without  honour,  and  a  distinction  almost  to  be  avoided. 

The  time  is  critical.  The  language  may  reach  a  certain 
stage  of  decay  that  may  cut  it  off  from  all  its  past,  or  may 
suffer  a  diminution  in  the  numbers  of  those  who  speak  it 
that  may  make  restoration  almost  impossible.  If  there  is 
cause  for  congratulation,  there  is  also  cause  for  apprehension. 
Politics  are  now  all-absorbing,  and  there  is  no  greater 
enemy  of  the  Irish  language  than  the  Irish  politician, 
of  whatever  section,    Every    piece   of  special   legislation 


1108   .  A  Chapter  towards  a  Life  of 

affecting  the  Irish-speaking  districts  of  Ireland  is  Hke  a  fall 
of  rain  on  a  badly-roofed  dwelling.  If  the  house  be  put  in 
order  there  will  be  nothing  to  fear  from  the  rain.  Those 
who  have  already  been  workers  in  the  movement  should 
exert  themselves  still  more,  and  the  apathetic  should  at  last 
bestir  themselves.  The  advantages  of  the  time  should  be 
availed  of,  and  its  dangers  guarded  against.  If  the  Irish 
clergy  step  into  their  rightful  place,  they  will  assure  the 
success  of  the  Gaelic  movement,  and  add  one  more  to  their 
claims  on  the  affection  of  their  countrymen.^ 

J.  McI^EiLL. 


A   CHAPTEK   TOWAEDS   A  LIFE   OF    THE   LATE 
KEV.  JOSEPH  MULLOOLY,  O.P.^ 

ON  Tuesday,  the  11th  day  of  February,  1890,  the  sale  of 
the  extensive  and  valuable  library  of  the  late  Right 
Eev.  Monsignor  Neville,  Dean  of  Cork,  was  commenced 
at  the  right  rev.  gentleman's  late  residence,  32,  South 
Terrace,  Cork.  As  might  have  been  anticipated  from 
Monsignor  Neville's  exalted  position,  high  scholastic  attain- 
ments, extensive  knowledge,  and  close  connection  with  the 
highest  educational  institutions  in  the  country,  his  library 
embraced  a  fine  collection  of  works  on  various  subjects, 
many  of  the  volumes  being  of  great  rarity. 

^  On  consideration,  it  has  occurred  to  the  writer  that  possibly  the 
forms  of  expression  adopted  by  him  in  some  instances  might  justly 
give  groimd  for  complaint  on  the  part  of  readers.  He  wishes  to  disclaim 
any  intention  of  being  censorious,  or  of  lecturing  any  of  those  to  whom 
he  addresses  himself.  He  recognises  that  he  has  no  title  to  act  as  censor 
or  adviser,  and  therefore  desires  the  views  he  puts  forward  to  be  considered 
on  their  own  merits.  When  he  speaks  of  responsibility,  duty,  apathy,  of 
"  should  "  and  "  should  not,"  the  force  of  the  words  but  represents  the 
force  of  the  convictions  which  he  shares  with  many  respected  Irishmen, 
both  clergy  and  laity. 

2  By  "  A.  H.,"  Priest  of  the  Diocese  of  Dromore,  with  some  Notes  and 
Observations,  and  interesting  information  collected,  relative  to  both  rev, 
gentlemen  .       ,  ' 


the  late  Bev.  Joseph  Mulloolyj  O.P.  1109 

Among  a  number  of  books  that  I  purchased  at  the  sale, 
there  was  one  of  more  than  passing  interest.  It  was  a  copy 
of  Father  Mullooly's  great  work,  Saint  Clement,  Pope  and 
Martyr,  and  his  Basilica  in  Borne.  The  first  edition  of  this 
work  was  pubhshed  by  Benedict  Guerra,  Plaza  del  Oratorio 
di  S.  Marcella  50,  Kome,  1869;  and  the  second  edition, 
enlarged  and  improved,  was  printed  in  Kome,  by  G.  Barbera, 
in  1873.  It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  no  edition  of  this 
rare  and  interesting  work — valuable  alike  to  the  artist  and 
theologian,  the  archaeologist  and  historian — has  yet  been 
brought  out  in  Ireland.  The  copy  that  I  was  so  fortunate 
in  obtaining  is  of  the  second  edition,  and,  besides  the  general 
additions  by  the  author,  it  is  largely  interspersed  with  notes 
in  manuscript,  carefully  written,  and  marked  to  correspond 
with  the  various  subjects  to  which  they  relate.  It  contains, 
also,  a  number  of  plates  and  woodcuts,  evidently  not  avail- 
able when  the  volume  was  being  prepared  for  the  press ;  and, 
therefore,  not  to  be  found  in  any  other  copy  of  the  work. 
From  the  careful  manner  in  which  the  notes  are  arranged, 
and  the  plates  inserted,  I  am  of  opinion  that  the  volume 
was  specially  prepared  with  a  view  to  bringing  out  a  new 
edition. 

But  above  and  before  all  the  additions  that  have  been 
made  to  it,  there  is  one  that  is  deserving  of  notice,  and  will 
be  the  more  interesting  as  it  has  never  appeared  in  print. 
Bound  into  the  volume,  towards  the  end,  are  some  half- 
dozen  pages  of  manuscript — a  sketch  of  the  life  of  Father 
MuUooly ;  at  the  top  of  which,  on  the  first  page,  is  a  very 
good  photograph  of  the  rev.  gentleman,  underneath  which  is 
written,  ''  Eev.  Joseph  Mullooly,  14th  August,  1878."  This 
sketch  I  consider  too  valuable  a  contribution  towards  the 
life  of  this  talented,  devoted,  and  eminent  priest,  to  be  put 
away  unnoticed,  or,  perhaps,  to  be  lost ;  especially  as  the 
priestly  hand  that  penned  it,  is  now,  as  well  as  poor  Father 
Mullooly,  mouldering  into  dust.  Here,  then,  is  a  faithful 
transcript  of  the  sketch,  which  some  biographer  may  yet 
find  useful  towards  compiling  a  life  of  the  humble  friar 
who  has  done  so  much  to  develop  and  illustrate  our  early 
CathoHc  ecclesiology;  and   who,  though  labouring,  living, 


1110  A  Ckapter  towards  a  Life  of 

and  dying,  far  from  his  native  land,  brought  credit  alike  to 
his  creed  and  country  : — 

**  Joseph  Mullooly  was  the  son  of  a  small  farmer  in  Ireland, 
whose  white  head  a  priest  told  me  was  always  in  his  place  at 
church. 

**  He  sent  his  son  to  Eome  with  half-a-crown  in  his  pocket. 
It  was  my  good  fortune  to  know  this  Dominican  from  1852,  and 
to  witness  his  discoveries  at  St.  Clemente  from  the  first  down 
to  the  Mithraeum.  Once  he  told  me  he  should  like  to  revisit 
Ireland,  to  see  his  father's  grave.  In  1879  he  wrote  to  me  that 
the  Feast  of  Our  Lady's  Nativity  was  dear  to  him  ;  on  that  day, 
thirty-eight  years,  he  took  the  habit,  and  a  year  after,  solemn 
vows ;  and  for  many  years  he  had  the  care  of  St.  Clemente,  and 
St.  Domenico  and  Sisto. 

"  He  was  most  assiduous  in  preserving  the  monuments  of 
both  churches ;  and  what  I  consider  an  unknown,  almost,  and 
very  remarkable  part  of  his  character,  was  the  patient  personal 
toil  with  which  he  gathered  up  the  poor  conventual  resources, 
husbanded  them,  and  cultivated  the  vineyards  mentioned  in  the 
Introduction.^  On  the  round  sepulchral  tower  there  the  Pied- 
montese  brigands  planted  their  cannon,  and  two  children  were 
killed  opposite  St.  Clemente. 

Patient,  humble,  laborious,  sagacious,  and  very  persevering 
he  was  the  most  disinterested,  generous,  and  forgiving  man 
I  ever  knew.  I  never  saw  him  angry.  His  favourite  maxim 
was  that  of  imitation,  '  Of  two  evils  we  must  choose  the  least.' 
Pius  IX.  said  :  '  Here  is  our  prior,  we  must  do  what  we 
can  for  him,  for  he  knows  how  to  take  a  rough  word  from 
the  Vicar  of  Christ.'  And  well  did  he  deserve  the  words  of 
Leo  XIII.,  which  filled  him  with  confusion  :  '  This  is  that 
friar  of  St.  Clemente  ©f  whom  we  have  heard  so  much 
good,  so  many  encomiums  '  He  and  St.  Clemente  had  not  been 
absent  from  the  Pope's  escape  to  Gaeta.  He  knew  the  Italians 
well ;  their  bloodthirsty  passions ;  the  defects  of  police,  the  absurd 
lenity  of  the  government ;  but  he  also  knew  the  pacific  virtues  of 
the  good  and  religious-minded.  He  had  a  Catholic  soul,  full  of 
reverence  for  the  Sovereign  Pontiff,  full  of  submission  in  trials  to 
the  will  of  God.  When  a  Eoman  paper  attributed  the  discovery 
of  the  old  Basilica  to  an  Italian  archaeological  prelate,  and  refused 
to  correct  the  mis-statement,  he  felt  hurt  certainly,  but  showed 
no  spleen.  For  he  was  only  a  friar,  minding  the  things  com- 
mitted to  his  charge,  desirous  of  the  glory  of  Holy  Church.  To 
me  it  was  wonderful'  and  providential  how  such  a  quiet  retir- 
ing man,  when  the  archaeological  commission  ceased  the  excava- 

^  The  Introduction  to  St.  Clement,  Pope  and  Martyr,  and  his  Basilica  in 
Hwm^  is  here  meant.~C.  G.  D. 


the  late  Eev.  Joseph  Mullooly,  O.P.  1111 

43ions,  had  the  courage  to  appeal  to  all  Europe  for  subscriptions, 
and  carried  on  the  work  himself  alone.  :  ,  . 

''  I  think  it  was  in  1856,  the  prior  showed  me  in  the  conven:b 
cellar  an  antique  Corinthian  capital  resting  on  the  floor,  the  arch 
springing  from  it  to  support  the  roof.  '  Do  you  think  there  is  a 
column  under  it?'  Old  fragments  were  so  commonly  used  in 
Eome,  who  could  tell.  Soon  afterwards  he  told  me  there  was  a 
column,  and  in  1857  he  took  me  down,  and  showed  me,  through  a 
hole  in  the  wall,  a  rude  fresco  of  St.  Catherine  (page  187),  and 
several  pillars  erect,  about  two-thirds  buried  in  the  earth. 

"This  discovery  he  communicated  to  De  Eossi  and  other  members 
of  Pio  Nono's  archaeological  commission.  In  consequence,  they 
undertook  excavations,  for  the  prior  had  no  funds.  I  presume 
De  Kossi  alludes  to  this  when  he  says  (BuUettmo  di  ArchcBologia 
Christiana,  No.  iy.,  1870) : — '  In  the  year  1858  I  opened  by 
superior  order  an  excavation  behind  the  apse  of  the  present 
Basilica  of  St.  Clemente.'  From  whatever  cause  these  excava- 
tions at  the  public  cost  ceased;  and  the  prior,  by  begging, 
continued  his  own  plans,  ending  with  the  finding  of  the 
MiTHB^UM.  That  also  I  saw  before  I  left  Rome,  in  1870,  when 
it  was  yet  filled  up  almost  to  the  roof;  and  the  natural  question 
was,  'Is  this  St.  Clement's  own  oratory?*  In  Bullettino  No.  iii., 
1870,  De  Rossi  says  :^'  P.  Mullooly  has  made  a  discovery  quite 
unexpected  and  of  the  greatest  value,  by  the  ancient  Basilica  of 
St.  Clemente,  whose  foundations  and  vaults  in  the  lowest  bowels 
of  the  earth,  under  the  heavy  mass  of  two  buildings  set  upon 
them,  he  is  exploring  and  excavating  with  an  alacrity  and  firm- 
ness of  wise  purpose  equaLto  the  arduous  undertaking.'  In  the 
next  number  (iv.,  1870)  De  Rossi  says  again :—' In  what  other 
place  of  Rome  or  of  Europe  can  the  archaeologist  admire  and  study 
such  a  succession  of  architectonic  monumental  strata,  which  from 
our  age  go  up  in  order  of  time,  and  tin  the  depths  of  the  earth 
go  down  by  steps  through  more  than  twenty  centuries  ?  Setting 
aside  the  East  and  Egypt,  I  do  not  remember  another  group  of 
ancient  edifices,  constructed  one  upon  the  other,  to  be  compared 
with  that  which  in  the  ravine  between  the  Esquiline  and  Caelian 
is  being  revealed  to  us ;  thanks  to  the  fifteen  years'  unwearied 
work  of  the  well-deserving  Irish  Dominican.' 

"  And  I,  humble  witness  to  truth,  know  from  years  of  conver- 
sation with  him,  that  not  only  this,  but  much  more  in  that  region 
would  have  been  unearthed  had  he  the  power.  For  it  must  be 
remembered  that  one  of  the  greatest  difficulties  was  that  the 
garden  ground  at  St.  Clemente  was  very  confined,  and  it  was 
necessary  to  burrow  under  the  neighbouring  lands.  At  page  135 
De  Rossi  says  : — '  What  almost  goes  beyond  all  our  imagination 
is,  that  the  whole  of  such  a  grand  Basilica  should  have  wholly  dis- 
appeared under  heaps  of  rubbish  and  ruins,  so  that  the  learned  in 
Roman  antiquity  had  neither  sniff  nor  suspicion  of  its  existence.' 


1112  A  Chapter  towards  a  Life  of 

All  this  reminds  me  of  Columbus  and  the  egg.  The  above- 
ground  Basilica,  as  it  came  into  Father  Mullooly's  hands,  was 
puffed  up  as  the  ancient  one. 

"De  Rossi  says,  indeed  (page  142),  that  'Pauvinius,  who 
never  had  a  suspicion  of  a  Basilica  buried  in  the  foundations  of 
the  present  one,  yet  knew  that  this  was  not  the  ancient  church  of 
the  age  of  Constantine,  but  a  work  entirely  re-made  in  the  twelfth 
century  by  Cardinal  Anastasius,  of  whom  he  wrote  ;  his  sepulchre 
is  still  extant  in  the  Basilica  of  St.  Clement,  which  he  restored 
from  its  foundations — a  fiindamentis  refecit.' 

^'  To  me  it  does  not  seem  that  Pauvinius  even  hints  at  an 
older  church,  because  a  thorough  restoration  from  bottom  to  top 
may  well  take  place  in  any  pre-existing  building.  The  jealous 
arrogance  of  Roman  antiquaries  is  notorious. 

"But  the  fact  still  remains  that  with  all  the  old  marbles  and 
inscriptions  of  St.  Clemente  before  their  eyes,  not  one  of  them  had 
a  '  sniff  or  suspicion '  of  the  existence  of  another  Basilica  till 
Joseph  MuUooly,  *  the  well-deserving  Irish  Dominican,'  enabled 
them  to  see. 

**  Methinks  I  find  an  explanation  at  page  152.  *  Mistress  of 
useful  teaching  is  such  a  stupendous  monumental  strata  in  our 
classic  soil.  If  the  archaeologists  had  studied  the  levels  of  the 
Roman  monuments  in  the  Caelimontan  region  they  would  have,  a 
priori,  and  before  any  excavation,  guessed  that  the  present 
Church  of  St.  Clemente  is  not,  and  could  not  be,  one  of  the 
oldest  in  Rome,  and  that  beneath  it  must  be  buried  at 
least  the  vestiges  of  the  primitive  Basilica.'  But  the  olden 
archaeologists  were  too  busy  rubbing  their  noses  against  dug  up 
coins  and  bits  of  pagan  epitaphs,  and  rare  statues  of  their  classic 
soil.  They  seemed  to  fancy  that  none  but  a  Roman  could  read 
Latin.  And  if  by  chance  one  or  two,  like  Ciampini,  wished  to 
trace  church  forms  in  stone,  it  is  quite  certain  that  he  engraved 
the  Ambones  and  other  meinorahilia  of  this  very  recent  Church  of 
St.  Clemente  without  an  idea  that  they  were  not  primitive  uses 
in  their  primitive  place.  Why  archaeologists  did  not  take  levels 
chi  lo  sa !  But  I  rather  think  that  De  Rossi  himself,  until  he 
was  shown  the  half -buried  pillars  and  the  fresco  of  St.  Catherine, 
knew  no  more  than  they.  What  I  do  know  is,  that  the  unpre- 
tending Joseph  Mullooly  rose  neither  to  the  level  of  an  archaeo- 
logist nor  man  of  letters,  nor  antiquary,  nor  finder  of  relics,  nor 
connoisseur  and  dealer  in  Roman  antiquities.  Plenty  such  there 
were,  and  by  no  means  small  their  profit  and  public  praise. 
When  he  did  discover,  and  when  he  went  on  discovering  after 
othtri  had  abandoned  the  lead,  certainly  there  was  some  vexation 
of  spirit.  He  did  not  hold  forth  at  any  accademia.  Only  he  went 
on  digging,  and  *  the  fifteen  years'  work  of  the  well-deserving 
Irish  Dominican '  he  illustrated  by  the  book  in  which  I  am 
writing. 


the  late  Bev.  Joseph  Mullooly,  O.P.  1113 

*' Generally  speaking,  archaeologists  had  their  libraries  and 
leisure.  He  had  to  grow  the  convent  greens,  to  pay  the  vineyard, 
sell  the  best  of  its  wines,  and  keep  out  fever  by  the  worst  left. 
He  had  to  learn,  and  read  up,  and  write,  when  and  as  best  he 
could.  And  if  he  had  done  nothing  else,  but  only  printed  his 
book  on  the  labours  of  others,  liable  as  a  self-taught  man  must  be 
to  make  mistakes,  it  would  be  a  worthy  work.  But,  to  my  mind, 
in  this  age  of  Kenans,  Max  Miillers,  Huxleys,  prattles  about  St. 
Paul's  rheumatics,  jade  and  stone,  rubbed-off  monkey  tails, 
ice-scratched  rocks,  it  is  as  while  noble  lords  travesty  breviaries 
and  note  '  legends,'  by  the  industry  of  a  simple  friar  Providence 
has  chosen  to  show  Catholics  where  all  this  patter  began,  and 
where  it  ends. 

"  The  strata  of  faith  and  discipline  rise  hard  by  the  dens  of 
vicious  superstition. 

"  Still  they  rise,  and  if  for  a  time  they  are  buried  by  the 
wrecks  of  war  and  revolution,  at  an  opportune  time  they  are  seen 
again.  *  Mistress  of  useful  teaching,'  truly  Eome  still  teaches 
the  chosen  Christian  nation  and  royal  priesthood — teaches  and 
warns  by  over  twenty  centuries. 

"A.  H.,  Priest  of  the  Diocese  of  Dromore. 

"  P.S. — The  Piedmontese  thieves  and  assassins  deprived 
Father  Mullooly  of  the  Convent  of  St.  Domenico  e  Sisto.  In  the 
church  he  had  preserved  many  gravestones  of  Irish  worthies.  The 
chapter-house  was  painted  by  PereBesson,  O.P. ;  chiefly  miracles 
of  St.  Dominick  connected  with  the  building ;  among  them  that  of 
Napoleon,  Cardinal  Stefano's  nephew.  He  had  to  buy  in  the 
vineyard  of  St.  Clemente.  He  had  added  to  the  attractions  of 
Eome  one  of  the  most  interesting  and  popular  monuments  of 
Christian  history,  eagerly  visited  by  people  of  every  nation.  In 
spite  of  the  disastrous  spoliation  of  Eome,  he  took  care  every  year 
to  celebrate  St.  Clement's  Feast  with  pious  pomp,  and  illumi- 
nated the  subterranean  antiquities.  What  help  had  he  ?  Not  a 
lira  from  the  brigands,  who,  egged  on  by  the  English  Govern- 
ment, usurped  Eome,  and  robbed  the  Catholic  world.  They 
new-entitled,  for  their  own  ends,  the  Commission  of  Christian 
archaeology  instituted  by  Pius  IX.,  '  another  Damasus,'  as  the 
flatterer  styled  him,  and  Eoman  archaeologists  did  not  blush  to 
serve  under  them. 

"  On  the  20th  of  June,  1880,  Father  Mullooly  said  his  last 
mass  in  the  novitiate  chapel.  He  had  suffered  from  pleurisy,  but 
was  supposed  well  enough  to  leave  Eome  for  the  summer.  A 
true  monk,  he  hated  leaving  his  convent  even  for  a  night.  After 
mass  his  strength  failed  ;  he  never  left  his  bed  again,  and  died  at 
the  Ave  Maria  (Vespers  of  St.  John  and  Paul),  the  General  F. 
Larroca  reciting  the  prayers  for  the  agonizing.    Like  Pius  IX., 


1114  A  Chapter  towards  a  Life  of 

whom  he  loved  so  well,  he  is  buried  in  the  public  cemetery  of 
St.  Lorenzo  outside  the  walls.     E.I.P. 

"  PP.  S.— Joseph  MuUooly,  died  Friday,  25th  June,  1880, 
ten  years  after  Eome  was  desecrated  by  the  Piedmontese,  Victor 
Emmanuel,  and  the  intrusion  of  the  English  ambassador.  Friend- 
ship may  apply  to  a  friar  so  known  and  so  esteemed  the 
Magnificat  antiphon  of  the  first  vespers  (26th  the  Feast)  of 
the  Martyrs,  SS.  John  and  Paul  in  their  house,  now  the  Pas- 
sionist  Church  hard  by  : — 

"  Astiterunt  justi  ante  Dominum  et  ab  invicem  non  sunt 
separati;  calicem  Domini  biberunt  et  amici  Dei  appellati  sunt." 

Curious  to  learn  who  the  writer  of  this  interesting  sketch 
could  be,  I  made  inquiries  among  people  most  likely  to  be 
well  informed  in  such  matters,  but  with  little  result  towards 
obtaining  the  desired  information.  "A.  H.,  Priest  of  the 
Diocese  of  Dromore,"  was  totally  unknown  to  them,  under 
this  designation. 

It  then  occurred  to  me,  that  the  writer,  who  showed 
such  an  intimate  knowledge  of  the  Eev.  Father  MuUooly, 
and  so  tersely  described  those  prominent  incidents  of  his 
life  and  labours,  should  be  almost  a  permanent  resident  in 
the  Eternal  City,  if  not  a  constant  companion  of  the  esti- 
mable friar  himself.  But  this  opened  up  a  new  dif&culty.  I 
was  not  sufficiently  acquainted  with  any  individual  in  Eome, 
to  trouble  him  to  make  the  inquiry  for  me ;  yet  I  thought 
that  the  value  of  the  sketch  would  be  greatly  enhanced  by  the 
discovery  of  its  author.  Looking  through  the  Irish  Catholic 
Directory y  in  the  hope  of  alighting  upon  some  name  which 
the  initials  (A.  H.)  might  even  temporarily  fit,  I  paused 
before  the  name  of  the  Most  Kev.  T.  A.  O'Callaghan,  D.D., 
Lord  Bishop  of  Cork.  Here,  I  said,  is  the  source  Aom  which 
I  may  expect  to  obtain  a  thorough  solution  of  the  mystery. 
His  Lordship,  who  has  been  for  many  years  resident  in 
Bome,  and  a  close  student  of  character  and  events  connected 
with  ecclesiastical  matters  in  that  city,  is  the  most  likely 
authority  in  the  world  on  such  a  subject.  Nor  was  I  dis- 
appointed, as  the  sequel  will  show.  I  wrote  to  his  Lordship, 
briefly  detailing  the  circumstances  which  urged  me  to 
communicate  with  him,  and  requesting  him  to  kindly  give 
me  any  information  that  be  could,  respecting  the  signature, 


the  late  Bev.  Joseph  MuUooly,  O.P.  1115 

"A.  H.,  Priest  of  the  Diocese  of  Dromore" — a  copy  of 
which  I  enclosed.  His  Lordship  vouchsafed  me  this  prompt, 
kind,  and  exceedingly  valuable  reply : — 

''  The  initials,  A.  H.,  are  evidently  those  of  the  Eev.  Alexander 
Henry,  an  intimate  friend  of  Father  Mullooly  for  nearly  forty 
years.  His  brother,  Mitchell  Henry,  was  at  one  time  known  in 
Irish  politics.  He  was  received  into  the  Catholic  Church  early 
in  life,  and  on  the  death  of  his  wife  was  ordained  priest,  and 
accepted  by  the  Most  Eev.  Dr.  Leahy,  Bishop  of  Dromore.  He 
died  more  than  a  year  ago,^  at  St.  Leonards-on-Sea.  .  .  .  The 
Chur(;h  of  St.  Clement  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  monuments 
of  Christianity,  and  I  am  delighted  that  you  have  come  to 
know  it." 

Here,  then,  is  a  flood  of  light  thrown  upon  the  subject, 
for  which  future  biographers,  as  well  as  present  readers, 
will  feel  deeply  grateful  to  his  Lordship.  The  Eev.  Father 
Alexander  Henry  is  the  author  of  the  sketch  of  Father 
Mullooly,  and  is  also  the  author  of  the  manuscript  notes 
(which  are  in  the  same  handwriting),  and  compiler  of  the 
extra  plates  and  woodcuts  inserted  in  the  copy  of  that 
exceedingly  interesting  work  of  "  the  well-deserving  Irish 
Dominican,"  noticed  at  the  beginning  of  this  paper.  Little 
wonder,  indeed,  that  the  "  intimate  friend  for  nearly  forty 
years "  of  the  dear  departed  friar  should  endeavour  to 
snatch  from  the  teeth  of  time  those  interesting  events  that 
he  has  so  carefully  and  sympathetically  recorded,  in  the  life 
of  a  man,  whose  sanctity,  labours,  and  name,  are  so  little 
known  to  his  countrymen  at  the  present  day.  His  Lordship 
most  aptly  designates  the  Church  of  St.  Clement  "one  of 
the  most  interesting  monuments  of  Christianity."  This  it 
really  is,  if  it  is  not  absolutely  the  most  interesting ;  for  it 
opens  to  us  the  earliest  plan,  arrangement,  and  artistic 
treatment  of  Christian  subjects  of  any  Christian  Church  in 
the  whole  world.  The  labours  of  Father  Mullooly,  together 
with  the  history  and  illustrations  contained  in  his  book,  I 
think,  conclusively  prove  this. 

But  to  turn  to  the  Eev.  Father  Henry.  I  was  anxious 
to  learn  a  few  additional  facts  about  him — as  from  his 

*  His  Lordship's  letter  bears  date,  Ist  May,  1891. 


1116  A  Chapter  towards  a  Life  of 

writings  I  concluded  that  he  was  a  man  of  talent,  firmness, 
and  fine  feeling.  I  wrote  to  a  revered  friend  of  mine,  a 
P.P.  in  the  West  of  Ireland,  on  the  subject ;  but  the  only- 
information  the  rev.  gentleman  could  give  me  was,  that 
Father  Henry  was  a  gentleman  of  comparatively  indepen- 
dent means.  Another  letter  addressed,  to  an  estimable 
clergyman  in  Dublin,  brought  me  a  reply,  from  which  I 
take  the  following  extract: — "Father  Mullooly  was  born 
near  Longford ;  went  to  Rome  very  young  to  join  the 
Dominican  Order ;  and  never  came  to  Ireland.  Years  ago 
he  got  votes  for  the  Diocese  of  Ardagh.  Father  Henry  was 
never  a  Dominican.  The  only  person  I  know  who  could 
give  you  any  information  about  him,  is  the  Rev.  Father  H. 
O'N."  To  the  Rev.  H.  O'N.  I  then  wrote,  explaining  my 
object  and  introduction,  and  the  rev.  gentleman  most  kindly 
replied  to  my  query,  and  I  gratefully  quote  from  his  exceed- 
ingly valuable  and  interesting  letter  : — 

"  I  fear  I  cannot  give  you  much  information  regarding  the 
matter  in  which  you  are  interested.  I  knew  Father  Henry  only 
through  his  acquaintanceship  with  our  late  ^  revered  Bishop,  Dr. 
Leahy.  I  know  nothing  at  all  about  him  which  would  connect 
him  with  Father  Mullooly.  His  family,  as  I  understand,  origi- 
nally came  from  the  neighbourhood  of  Loughbrickland,  a  village 
some  eight  miles  from  Newry.  But  whether  he  was  born  there  or 
not,  I  do  not  know. 

"  Dr.  Leahy  met  him,  I  think,  for  the  first  time  in  the  spring 
of  1864,  in  Kome— possibly  through  the  introduction  of  Father 
Mullooly.  He  gave  him  one  of  the  Holy  Orders— sub-deaconship, 
I  think.  It  was  at  that  time  he  was  accepted  as  a  priest  of  the 
diocese  of  Dromore.  This  arrangement  was  merely  one  of  con- 
venience under  the  circumstances  of  his  residence  at  that  time 
in  Eome.  Ever  after  in  his  letters  to  Dr.  Leahy  he  always  sub- 
scribed himself  'your  obedient  subject.'  He  paid  a  visit  to  the 
bishop  in  Violet  Hill  in  the  summer  of  1870,  the  year  in  which  the 
Vatican  Council  opened.  This  reminds  me  of  a  little  incident  which 
illustrates  a  very  marked  feature  in  Father  Henry's  character. 
The  bishop  being  a  bad  sailor  would  not  go  by  way  of  Marseilles 
and  Civita  Vecchia,  and  proposed  to  go  overland.  Father  Henry, 
on  the  other  hand,  with  all  his  regard  for  the  bishop,  and  all  his 
desire  to  be  his  travelling  companion,  would  not  recognise  the 
usurpation  of  Victor  Emmanuel,  even  so  far  as  to  pass  through 

1  The  letter  is  dated,  September  24th,  1891. 


the  late  Bev.  Joseph  Mullooly,  O.P.  1117 

the  country  of  which  he  had  robbed  the  Holy  Father.  Each, 
therefore,  took  his  own  course,  and  arrived  in  Rome  by  different 
routes.  The  bishop,  however,  did  not  travel  alone.  The  late 
Father  Thomas  Burke  was  his  companion. 

"  After  the  Italian  occupation  of  Rome,  Father  Henry  settled 
down  in  England.  He  may  have  come  sometimes  to  Ireland,  to 
his  brother's  place  at  Kylemore  ;  but  he  never,  to  my  knowledge, 
revisited  Violet  Hill.  He  wrote,  however,  occasionally  to  the 
bishop.  He  was  always  certain  to  write  for  Christmas,  Easter, 
and  the  bishop's  feast  day.  His  letters  have  not  been  preserved. 
I  don't  think,  however,  they  were  of  any  special  value,  containing 
merely  little  details  of  his  life  in  St.  Leonard's,  or  congratulations 
suited  to  the  season  and  time  they  were  written.  He  took  a  very 
warm  interest  in  the  Convent  of  the  Poor  Clares,  Newry.  While 
he  was  in  Rome  he  made  them  a  present  of  a  magnificent  shrine 
containing  the  relics  of  St.  Leontie.  Some  years  ago,  when 
passing  by  Kylemore,  his  brother's  residence,  I  heard  a  good  deal 
about  his  kindness  in  many  ways  to  the  people  of  the  district.- 
His  conversion,  I  believe,  displeased  his  father  very  much,  but 
did  not  seem,  however,  to  have  lessened  the  friendship  of  his 
brother  Mitchell,  or  his  sister,  with  whom  he  always  continued 
on  most  affectionate  terms.  Like  many  other  converts,  he  was 
very  eager  and  zealous  in  the  way  of  trying  to  bring  others  into 
the  Church.  Personally  he  was  a  man  of  genuine  piety.  I  have 
just  jotted  down  these  odds  and  ends  from  memory.  If  they  serve 
your  purpose  in  any  way,  you  are  at  liberty  to  use  them."  ; 

Well,  I  have  accepted  the  permission  and  used  them; 
and  I  believe  that  I  am  correct  in  stating  that  everyone  who 
reads  them  will  feel  grateful  to  the  "  memory "  that  pre- 
served within  its  cells  "  odds  and  ends "  that  give  so 
concisely  the  salient  points  in  the  life  of  this  estimable 
clergyman. 

But  I  have  not  done  with  Father  Henry  yet.  I  think 
that  I  can  connect  him  with  the  authorship  of  The  Sceptic's 
Dreain,  a  most  remarkable  document,  published  in  the 
second  edition  of  Father  Mullooly's  work  only  in  Eome. 
It  has  never  been  published  in  Ireland.  In  this  document 
the  sceptic  gives  a  minute  account ^of  the  almost  miraculous 
circumstance  that  led  to  his  conversion;  and  the  whole 
associations,  and  particularly  the  pointed  reference  tq 
St.  Clement,  taken  together  with  the  fact  that  typographical 
errors  in  the  copy  of  the  "Dream"  that  I  possess  are 
corrected  by  Father  Henry,  goes  far  to  fix  upon  that  rev. 


1118  A  Chapter  towards  a  Life  of 

gentleman  the  authorship.  Even  the  heading  composed  by 
the  Eev.  Father  Mullooly  strongly  supports  this  assumption. 
The  extraordinary  circumstance  related  in  the  document  is 
so  full  of  interest,  and  the  document  itself  never  having  been 
submitted  to  Irish  readers,  will  plead  its  apology  for  being 
reproduced  here.     Father  Mullooly  heads  it  thus  : — 

"  An  anonymous  friend  has  sent  us  the  following  lines,  wbioh' 
presuming  on  the  writer's  permission,  we  insert  here  : — 

"THE    sceptic's   DEE  AM. 

"^It  was  the  festival  of  St.  Clement.  I  was  in  Eome,  and 
wandering  with  a  friend  among  the  stately  ruins  of  the  Colosseum. 
The  gentle  autumnal  breeze  brought  "to  our  ears  the  sound  of 
distant  church  bells.  *  It  is  time  to  go  to  St.  Clement's,'  said  my 
friend ;  '  are  you  not  coming  with  me  ? '  '  No,  thank  you,'  I  repUed, 
'the  church  itself  is  interesting,  I  grant  you,  from  its  ancient 
architecture  and  frescoes ;  but  as  a  work  of  art  alone,  at  least 
to  me,  the  legendary  meanings  of  the  paintings  on  its  walls, 
are  as  mythical  as  the  history  of  Komulus  and  Eemus.  No, 
I  leave  such  puerilities  to  women  and  children.'  '  I  will  not 
attempt  to  argue  with  you,'  was  the  answer  ;  'but,'  opening  his 
English  prayer-book,  *  having  seen  you  at  the  English  service  last 
Sunday,  I  fancied  you  might  venerate  a  church  in  which  the 
remains  repose  of  a  saint  commemorated  by  our  communion,'  and 
he  pointed  to  a  line  in  the  Kalendar,  marked  "  November  23rd, 
St.  Clement,  Bp.  and  Martyr."  '  My  dear  fellow,'  I  answered, 
'  all  communions  are  much  the  same  to  me.  I  went  to  Church 
last  Sunday,  because  the  rest  of  my  party  did  so ;  but  you  must 
not  take  for  granted,  in  consequence,  that  such  is  my  habit. 
Christianity  may  have  effected  much ;  I  do  not  say  it  has  not ; 
but  civilization  has  done  more,  and  we  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
the  age  of  free  thought,  cannot  again  put  ourselves  in  leading 
strings.  Look  at  these  piers  ;  was  this  gigantic  pile  erected  by 
Christians?  After  all,  we  are  a  set  of  pigmies  compared  to  those 
whom  you  would  term  our  less  enlightened  progenitors.  The 
very  stones  of  Eome  have  a  voice.'  '  Yes,'  he  answered,  '  but, 
like  the  writing  on  Balthassar's  wall,  there  is  only  one  true  inter- 
pretation.' So  saying  he  left  me,  and  sitting  down  upon  a  stone 
balf  worn  away  by  the  knees  of  pilgrims,  I  lazily  watched  the 
daws,  and  listened  to  their  cawing,  as  they  flew  in  and  out  the 
upper  arches,  until,  overcome  with  drowsiness,  I  fell  asleep,  and 
dreamt. 

**  And  this  was  my  dream:  — I  dreamt  that  I  was  alone, 
pacing  up  and  down  one  of  the  aisles  in  the  Church  of  Clement, 
when  suddenly  I  felt,  without  at  first  seeing  anything,  that  some 
one  was  near  me.     1  turned  my  head,  and  saw  that  close  beside 


the  late  Bev.  Joseph  Mullooly,  O.P,  1119 

stood  a  shadowy  figure,  whose  features  I  could  not  distinctly 
discern,  the  whole  form  being  enveloped  in  a  kind  of  mist ;  but 
a  voice,  different  from  any  I  had  ever  known,  fell  on  my  ear. 
'  Even  the  stones  of  Eome  speak,'  it  said  ;  '  come  with  me,  and 
I  will  tell  you  what  they  say.'  An  unseen  power  seemed  to 
constrain  me  to  follow  my  conductor,  and  I  hastened  after  the 
shadowy  form  down  the  flights  of  steps  which  led  to  the  subter- 
ranean church.  '  You  reject  as  false  all  you  cannot  see  with  your 
bodily  eyes,'  it  said :  '  is  it  not  so  ?  All  unwritten  tradition  is  the 
same  to  you — a  collection  of  idle  tales  ;  and  much  even  that  yon 
see  you  declare  to  be  interpolated,  if  it  does  not  exactly  agree 
with  your  own  ideas  of  what  is  reasonable.  Am  I  not  right  ?' 
I  bowed  my  head  in  assent. 

''  You  consider  Romulus  and  Remus  as  mythical  personages  ; 
you  doubt  whether  such  a  patriot  as  Horatius  Codes  ever 
existed,  except  in  the  poet's  brain ;  but  you  believe,  do  you 
not,  that  there  were  such  monarchs  as  Nero  and  Trajan?' 
I  bowed  again.  *  Why  do  you  believe  in  them  ?  Perhaps 
they — perhaps  none  of  the  so-called  Caesars,  ever  really 
lived.'  I  murmured  something  about  the  testimony  which  not 
one  but  several  histories  gave  to  their  existence,  recording  their 
deeds,  entering  into  minute  descriptions  of  their  very  character ; 
also,  that  even  the  buildings  in  Rome  added  further  confirmation. 
'  Yet  you  have  allowed  the  doubt  to  enter  into  your  mind  whether 
Christianity  itself  is  of  diving  origin,  and  you  actually  sneer  at 
those  who  venerate  with  reverential  affection  the  martyrs  who 
won  their  crown  by  embracing  death  in  its  most  terrible  shapes 
rather  than  apostatize.'  *  I  never  sneered  at  a  martyr  himself,  in 
whatever  cause,'  I  hastily  answered ;  '  truth,  self-devotion,  self- 
denial,  must  always  command  respect.'  *Look  on  this  then,* 
the  figure  replied  ;  '  but  first  cast  from  your  mind  scepticism  and 
frivolity,  which,  as  poisonous  exhalations,  interpose  between  you 
and  the  truth.  Here  you  see  the  installation  of  St.  Clement,  the 
fellow-labourer  of  St.  Paul,  as  Bishop  of  Rome  ;  here  again  he  is 
celebrating  the  Holy  Eucharist ;  see  the  altar,  paten,  chalice,  the 
very  words  in  the  open  book,  the  same  as  those  used  daily  in  the 
service  of  the  Church.  Will  not  what  has  been  accepted  ahvays 
&ndL  everywhere  have  a  little  weight  with  you  in  helping  to  prove 
the  truth  of  Christianity  ?  You  have  seen  these  before ;  you 
have  admired  the  depth  of  expression  in  the  faces,  the  freshness 
of  colouring,  the  grace  of  the  drapery ;  but  those  they  represented 
were  to  you  as  myths.  Yet  not  in  one,  but  in  many  books,  these 
acts  of  the  martyrs  are  recorded  ;  and  now  these  walls,  decorated 
by  the  art  of  more  than  a  thousand  years  ago,  corroborate  their 
testimony.  You  admire  self-denial  in  the  abstract ;  here  you 
find  it  in  reality.  Here  St.  Alexis,  leaving  his  bride  and  parents 
and  affluence,  goes  forth  to  lead  a  life  of  self-abnegation,  and 
putting  his  hand  to  the  plough,  until  death,  looks  not  back.  Here 


1120    Chapter  towards  a  Life  of  the  late  Eev.  J.  Mullooly. 

again  you  have  the  apostolic  words  fulfilled,  and  the  unbelieving 
husband  converted  by  the  believing  wife. 

"  Look  down  below  into  the  chambers,  turned  by  St.  Clement 
into  a  retreat  for  prayer;  he,  the  noble  Eoman,  forsaking  the 
gorgeousness  of  an  imperial  court,  to  labour  with  Paul  the 
aged,  one  who  wrought  with  his  own  hands  for  his  living, 
and  a  prisoner.  Is  not  that  self-devotion?  Walk  round  and 
round  this  ancient  Basilica  ;  you  will  find  the  same  story  on  each 
fresco ;  all  unite  in  silently  but  effectually  preaching  the  same 
doctrine — death  to  the  world,  in  order  to  attain  to  life  in  that 
which  shall  never  pass  away.  Above  us,  but  beneath  the 
high  altar,  repose  all  that  is  mortal  of  St.  Clement  and  St.  Ignatius. 
Why  were  they  martyrs  ?  Because  they  loved  the  truth 
better  than  their  lives.  Because  the  ancient  Romans,  the 
conquerors  of  the  world,  delighted  to  see  an  aged  man  against 
whorn  not  a  whisper  of  slander  could  be  breathed,  torn  to 
pieces  by  wild  beasts,  or  as  he  himself  expressed  it,  *  I  am  the 
wheat  of  Christ.  I  must,  therefore,  be  ground  and  broken  by  the 
teeth  of  wild  beasts,  that  I  may  become  his  pure  and  spotless 
bread.'  A  few  years  ago,  and  those  blessed  relics  were  borne  in 
triumph  through  the  arena,  once  flowing  with  his  blood,  and  the 
stones  which  echoed  to  *  Death  to  the  Christians  !'  resounded  to 
the  glorious  Te  Deiim.  What  has  effected  this  change  from 
bloodshed  to  peace,  from  the  cry  of  the  heathen  persecutor  to 
the  triumphant  song  of  the  Christian  ?  Has  civilizatibn  ?  No,  a 
thousand  times  no,  A  fisherman  of  Galilee,  a  Jew  of  Tarsus,  a 
few  disciples,  some  of  them  weak  women  and  striplings,  have 
won  a  grander  victory  than  ever  did  Alexander  or  Augustus. 
Rome  conquered  the  world,  but  ,they  conquered  Rome.  And  your 
boasted  reason,  what  does  it  say  ?  Does  it  not  bow  to  the 
Almighty  power  which  alone  could  effect  this  marvellous  change  ? 
Is  not  Christianity  divine  ?  Do  not  the  very  stones  of  Rome 
attest  it?  Do  not  the  walls  of  San  Clemente  and  of  the 
Colosseum  suffice  alone,  without  any  other  proofs,  to  bear  requi- 
site testimony  to  the  truth  which  the  Church,  watered  by  the 
blood  of  martyrs,  teaches  ? 

"Oh!  wretched,  miserable  doubter,  be  sceptical  no  longer. 
You  admire  him  who  dies  for  a  principle,  however  faulty  ; 
venerate  those  who  looked  for  no  applause  of  man,  but  an 
unfading  wreath  in  heaven.  You  profess  to  love  truth  ; 
think  of  those  who  sealed  their  testimony  to  it  with  their 
blood,  sooner  than  throw  a  few  grains  of  incense  before  an  imperial 
image.  You  feel  your  heart  glow  within  you  while  listening  to 
the  histories  of  Clement,  and  Cyril,  and  Alexis,  and  their  patient 
self-denial.  Waver  then  no  more,  unstable  mortal.  Learn 
from  these  old  walls  and  decayed  paintings  the  eternal  truths 
they  eloquently,  though'silently,  proclaim  :  and  years  hence,  may 
be,  in  your  distant  home,  far  away  from  this  city  of  martyrs,  you 


American  Literature.  1121 

will  remember  with  thankfulness,  as  the  feast  of  St.  Clement  comes 
round  in  the  Church's  year,  the  lesson  they  taught  you.  Yes, 
these  very  walls,  hidden  for  centuries,  have  now,  as  it  were, 
been  brought  to  light  to  add  yet  a  testimony  to  the  awful  fact,  in 
this  age  of  inconsistency  and  incredulity,  fast  gliding  from  the 
mind  of  man,  that  this  sphere  is  not  to  revolve  for  ever ;  that  a 
pagan^morality  is  not  sufficient  to  cleanse  its  corruption  ;  that  the 
most  virtuous  heathen  that  ever  lived  lacked  that  consoling  faith 
in  a  communion  of  saints  which  sheds  a  soft  benignant  light  on 
the  dreariest  path  trod  by  a  Christian,  and  so  died  as  he  lived, 
without  that  peace  which  the  highest  honours  of  earth  fail  to 
bestow.' 

*'  The  voice  ceased,  and  I  awoke.  The  sky  was  still  a  cloud- 
less azure  :  the  daws  were  still  cawing  above  me ;  all  around 
appeared  the  same.  I  alone  was  different,  and  as  I  walked  from 
the  great  amphitheatre,  I  turned  once  more  for  a  last  look  at  the 
central  cross,  that  holy  symbol  so  dearly  loved  by  the  early 
Christians,  that  even  on  their  very  tiles  they  engraved  it :  and  I 
felt  that  I  too  had  been  conquered  by  its  power,  on  the  spot 
where  the  martyrs  won  their  crown." 

C.  G.   DOEAN. 


AMEKICAN  LITEEATUBE. 

1.  "  LiBRAEY  OF  American  Literature."    In  eleven  vols. 

Edited  by  E.  C.  Stedman  and  E.  M'Kay  Hutchinson  : 
Chatto  &  Windus. 

2.  "  American  Literature."    By  John  Nichol. 

3.  ''Poets  of  America."    By  E.  C.  Stedman. 

THE  passengers  of  The  Mayflower  made  their  new  homes 
in  a  land  without  memories.  Time  had  hallowed  no 
mound  by  the  Hudson  or  the  Potomac  ;  the  shores  of  Erie 
or  Ontario  were  not  haunted  by  the  gray  legends  of  the  old 
world ;  no  dim  traditions  of  great  names,  or  mighty  deeds, 
or  dark  tragedies  clung  to  glen  or  hill.  As  they  wandered 
over  the  vast  spaces  of  the  new  continent,  the  Pilgrims* 
tread  was  on  no  empire's  dust — no  vision  of  buried  greatness 
rose  up  before  them — no  voices  called  to  them  from  storied 
urn  or  desecrated  shrine — no  gloomy  fortress  frowned  upon 
VOL.  XII.  4  B 


1122  American  Literature. 

them,  or  whispered  from  its  ivied  desolation  the  stormy 
history  of  its  ruin.  They  felt  nothing  of  that  indefinable 
charm  that  ever  lingers  where  saintly  men  lived,  or  wise 
men  taught,  or  brave  men  suffered.  They  saw  none  of 
those  mouldering  relics  that  kindle  thought  and  waken  far- 
reaching  associations.  Imagination  wanted  its  enchanted 
atmosphere,  There  was  no  Marathon,  no  Camelot,  no  lona. 
The  inspiration  of  nature  was,  indeed,  round  them  every- 
where— the  colour  of  Autumn  woods — the  purple  of  rolling 
prairies — the  crimson  of  evening  on  the  lakes — thundering 
cataracts  —  murmuring  pines — moaning  hemlocks;  but, 
Puritanism  had  narrowed  their  sympathies,  and  the  struggle 
for  daily  bread  was  unfavourable  to  the  contemplative  eye. 
Hence  the  growth  of  American  literature  was  slow. 

During  the  colonial  period,  John  Smith,  "William 
Strachey,  John  Josselyn,  William  Wood,  and  John  Mason, 
wrote  some  interesting  and  graphic  prose  sketches.  One 
of  Strachey's  sketches.  The  Wrack  and  Bedemption  of  Sir 
Thomas  Gates,  is  particularly  noteworthy,  as  some  eminent 
critics  believe  that  from  it  Shakespeare  borrowed  the  plot  of 
his  magic  creation.  The  Tempest.  But  the  bombastic  verse 
of  the  Broadsheets,  the  Foglers,  the  Thomsons,  and  other 
whining  bards,  is  long  ago  wisely  forgotten. 

Between  the  period  we  have  spoken  of  and  the  period  of 
the  Be  volution,  Benjamin  Franklin  is  the  connecting  link. 
Franklin  was  born  at  Boston,  in  1706.  In  youth  he  was 
a  candlemonger.  About  the  age  of  twenty  he  became 
apprentice  to  a  printer.  But  after  a  short  time  untiring 
industry  made  things  brighter  for  him.  In  1747  he  com- 
menced his  Poor  Bichard's  Almanac.  Between  the  years 
1747  and  1754  he  wrote  a  series  of  letters  on  electricity.  In 
1779  he  published  his  political  and  philosophical  works.  His 
countryman,  Bancroft,  well  sums  up  his  literary  merits  :^ 
"  He  had  not  the  imagination  which  inspires  the  bard  or 
kindles  the  orator,  but  an  exquisite  propriety  gave  ease  of 
expression  and  graceful  simplicity  to  his  most  careless 
writings." 

*  See  Bancroft,  History  of  America,  page  528. 


American  Literatii/re.  1123^ 

The  Poor  Bichard's  Almanac  is  the  American  book  of 
proverbs.  It  abounds  in  terse  and  wise  sayings.  **  One 
to-day  is  worth  two  to-morrows."  "  If  you  would  know  the 
value  of  money,  go  and  borrow  some."  **  Industry  need  not 
wish,  and  he  who  lives  upon  hopes  will  die  fasting." 
''  Virtue  is  the  best  preservative  of  health."  ''  If  your  desires 
are  to  things  of  this  world,  they  are  never  to  be  satisfied." 
''Ambition  has  its  disappointments  to  sour  us,  but  never 
the  good  fortune  to  satisfy  us." 

A  few  of  the  leaders  of  the  Eevolution  were  men  of  con- 
siderable literary  taste.  Hamilton's  Historical  Sketches  are 
pure  in  style  and  often  original  in  thought ;  the  speeches  of 
Fisher  Ames  are  looked  upon  by  the  Americans  themselves 
as  almost  equal  to  Burke's ;  Jefferson's  Notes  on  Virginia 
contains  not  a  few  graphic  passages. 

The  revolutionary  poetry  is  very  muddy  stuff.  Trumbull 
wrote  a  long  epic,  which,  it  is  said,  helped  on  the  war ; 
D wight,  a  poetical  prophecy  on  the  coming  greatness  of  his 
country ;  and  Joseph  Hopkinson,  the  now  National  Anthem 
Hail  Columbia.  ^  Freneau  is  the  only  poet  of  the  time 
whose  verses  are  still  read  :  his  Wild  Honey  Suckle,  has  the 
freshness  of  one  of  Herrick's  poems.  From  this  poet 
Campbell^  borrowed  one  of  the  most  beautiful  stanzas  in 
O'Connor's  Child,  and  the  last  lines  of  Gertrude  of  Wyonmig. 
There  is  also  an  echo  of  him  in  some  lines  of  Marmion. 

Passing  to  free  America  the  novelists  first  claim  our 
attention.  Charles  Brockden  Brown  was  the  earliest  fiction 
writer  of  note  in  the  New  World.  In  1798  Brown'published 
Wieland,  which  was  soon  followed  by  Ormond,  Arthur 
Merwyfi,  and  Edgar  Huntley.  These  strange  tales  remind 
one  of  Godwin  and  Shelley ;  however,  they  contain  many 
brilliant  passages,  and  are,  beyond  doubt,  the  works  of  a  man 
of  high  ability.  Diana's  Tom  Thornton  and  Paul  Filton 
are  of  the  same  class ;  and  also  Hoffman's  Ben  Blower's 
Story. 

In  the  order  of  time  the  next  American  fiction  writer  is 
Washington  Irving.     Irving's  style  is  highly  finished  and 

^  See  Nichol,  page  95. 


11^4  American  Literature. 

graceful.  His  phrases  are  often  graphic  and  generally 
rhythmical.  He  has  neither  the  originality  nor  the  colloquial 
ease  of  his  model,  Addison.  But  he  'has  the  rare  art  of  com- 
bining humour  and  pathos.  There  are  few  sketches  more 
pathetic  than  The  Broken  Heart,  The  Widow's  Son,  and 
Bural  Funerals;  while  Knickerbocker's  History  of  Neio 
York  is  a  masterpiece  of  this  author's  genial  humour.  And 
whether  his  tale  of  Bip  Van  Winkle  had  been  suggested  by 
the  story  of  Thomas  the  Bhymer,  or  the  legend  of  Peter 
Klaus,  or  The  Sleep  of  Ossian,  the  humour  and  local  colouring 
are  Irving' s  own.  Nor  will  his  name  be  forgotten  among 
the  maples  and  purple  asters  that  clothe  the  sides  of  the 
Katerskill  till  Byron's  is  forgotten  by  misty  Lochnavar. 
Yet  a  greater  force  in  American  literature  than  Irving  was 
his  contemporary,  Fenimore  Cooper. 

Cooper  transports  us  from  the  scenes  of  civilized  life  to 
the  gloomy  lakes  and  wild  hunting-grounds  of  the  savage. 
He  makes  us  feel  the  deep  stillness  of  the  forest  and  the 
unbounded  extent  of  the  prairie.  His  descriptions  of  Indian 
life  and  scenery  are  unsurpassed  ;  his  sea  pictures  have  the 
vastness  and  freshness  of  the  sea.  Like  his  great  model, 
Scott,  he  seldom  analyzes  character,  but  gives  us  a  man's 
portrait  by  his  words  and  actions.  Cooper's  style  has  never 
the  grace  and  harmony  of  Irving' s.  It  is  sometimes  crude 
and  slovenly,  and  often  diffuse.  Some  of  his  plots,  also,  are 
loosely  constructed  and  deficient  in  interest.  His  one  great 
gift  which  time  will  not  destroy,  is  *'  the  power  of  breathing 
into  his  creations  the  breath  of  life,  and  turning  the  phantoms 
of  his  brain  into  seeming  realities."  ^ 

Passing  from  Cooper  to  Edgar  Poe,  is  like  leaving  the 
fragrance  of  woods  and  meadows,  and  wandering  among 
tombs  and  smiless  ruins. 

Poe  was  born  at  Boston,  on  13th  January,  1809.  Accord- 
ing to  some  of  his  biographers,  the  original  name  was  Le  Poer. 
The  Le  Poers  were  descended  from  a  Norman  knight,  Eoger 
Le  Poer,  to  whom  Henry  II.  granted  the  territory  round 
Waterford.     In  Mr.   Ingram's   opinion,  the  author  of  The 

1  See  Parkman's  Essays,  selected  from  North  American  Review* 


American  Literature.  1125 

Raven  was  descended  from  the  Poes  of  Biverstown,  Co. 
Tipperary.  Be  this  as  it  may,  at  least  we  are  certain  that 
his  great-grandfather  left  Ireland  for  America  about  1760  ', 
that  his  grandfather  rose  to  distinction  in  the  United  States 
army ;  and  that  his  father  became  an  actor.  Two  years  after 
Edgar's  birth,  both  his  parents  died.  The  orphan  was  adopted 
byJohn  Allen,  of  Kichmond;  hencethe  name  Edgar  Allen  Poe. 
In  1816,  Mr.  Allen  visited  England,  and  placed  his  adopted 
child  at  a  school  near  London.  "  My  earliest  recollections 
of  school  life,"  says  Edgar,  '^are  connected  with  a  large 
rambling  Elizabethan  house  in  a  misty  village  of  England, 
where  were  a  vast  number  of  gigantic  and  gnarled  trees." 
To  this  earliest  recollection  of  a  hoary  house  and  "  deeply 
shadowed  avenues  "  may  be  traced  much  of  the  gloom  in 
Poe's  writings.  In  1821,  he  sailed  for  his  native  land,  and  the 
following  year  was  sent  to  a  classical  school  in  Kichmond, 
Virginia.  Reminiscenses  of  him  during  this  period  have  been 
handed  down  by  four  or  five  of  his  fellow-pupils.  He  was 
slight  in  form,  but  well-made,  sinewy  and  graceful,  a  swift 
runner,  a  wonderful  leaper,  a  strong  swimmer.  His  manners 
was  courteous,  his  disposition  amiable,  his  impulses  generous 
though  capricious ;  he  was  a  fair  French  scholar,  and  very 
fond  of  the  Odes  of  Horace.  In  1826,  he  entered  the  University 
of  Virginia.  Here  he  took  high  honours  in  modern  languages 
and  the  ancient  classics.  Here,  too,  unfortunately,  he  com- 
menced his  career  of  vice.  Heavily  in  debt,  he  soon  left  the 
university,  and  the  following  year  wandered,  no  one  knows 
where.  Some  say  he  offered  his  services  to  the  Greeks  against 
the  Turks  ;  according  to  his  own  story,  he  spent  the  greater 
part  of  his  time  in  France,  where  he  wrote  a  novel.  After 
eighteen  months'  absence,  the  prodigal  returned.  In  1830, 
he  entered  a  military  academy ;  but  scarcely  a  year  went  by 
when  he  was  brought  before  a  court-martial,  and  dismissed 
the  service  of  the  United  States.  Homeless  now  and  friend- 
less, he  turned  to  literature  as  a  means  of  obtair;iing  a  liveli- 
hood. In  1833,  he  won  two  prizes,  offered  by  the  editor  of 
a  Eichmond  paper,  for  the  best  poem  and  the  best  story. 
This  brought  him  under  the  notice  of  a  Mr.  Kennedy,  who 
secured  for  him  the  editorship  of  The  Southern  Literary 


1126  American  Literature. 

Messenger.  In  the  pages  of  this  monthly,  Poe  began  to 
publish  his  wonderful  tales.  There  appeared: — Bernice 
Morello,  Hans  Pfaale,  and  the  bitter  criticisms  which  made 
so  many  enemies  for  their  author.  Arthur  Gordon  Pirn, 
Ligeia,  William  Wilson,  and  The  Fall  of  the  House  of  Usher, 
were  published  in  1837.  Four  years  later,  Poe  became  editor 
of  Graham's  Magazine,  and  wrote  for  it  The  Murder  in  the 
Bue  Morgue,  The  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom,  and  a  review 
oiBarnahy  Budge,  and  of  Longfellow's  Ballads.  In  1844  he 
obtained  a  prize  of  one  hundred  dollars  for  The  Golden  Biig ; 
and  on  29th  January,  1845,  appeared  in  The  Evening 
Mirror  his  far-famed  Baven.  It  has  often  been  asked  what 
suggested  to  Poe  the  composition  of  this  very  remarkable 
poem.  Mr.  Ingram  thinks  (and,  in  my  opinion,  thinks 
rightly)  that  the  source  of  its  inspiration  is  to  be  found  in  a 
poem  of  Albert  Pike's,  called  Isidore,  and  published  in  1843- 
In  The  Baven,  too,  are,  doubtless,  echoes  of  Mrs.  Browning's 
Lady  Geraldine's  Courtship.  But  when  all  suggested  sources 
have  been  "  scrutinized,^  what  a  wealth  of  imagination  and 
a  power  of  words  remain  the  unalienable  property  of  Poe." 
The  year  before  his  death,  this  unhappy  author  lectured 
through  the  United  States,  and  wrote  Annabel  Lee  and  The 
Bells.     He  died  on  7th  October,  1849. 

Though  not  ungrateful  and  treacherous,  as  described  by 
Griswold,  Poe  was,  undoubtedly,  a  drunkard.  This  vice  made 
his  home  cheerless,  and  left  those  dearest  to  him  without 
bread.  By  it  a  rare  and  radiant  intellect  was  darkened,  and 
eyes  that  once  glowed  with  expression  sadly  dimmed. 
Fortunately,  there  is  no  trace  of  his  irregular  life  in  his  works* 
In  his  most  degraded  moments  he  was  never  tempted  ''  to 
paint  the  mortal  shame  of  nature  with  the  living  hues  of 
art." 

Another  remarkable  circumstance  connected  with  one 
whose  career  was  so  unhappy — who  sold  The  Baven  for  ten 
dollars,  and  offered  The  Bells  for  the  price  of  a  dinner  and  a 
pair  of  boots — is  the  extreme  care  he  bestowed  on  his  literary 
compositions.    "Nothing  that  he  put  before  the  public,"  says 

See  Id  gram's  Raven,  page  15, 


American  Literature.  1127 

Mr.  Ingram,^  "  save  some  of  his  earliest  work,  was  published 
until  he  had  given  it  the  most  elaborate  polish  it  was 
capable  of  receiving.  Word  after  word,  sentence  after 
sentence,  was  carefully  considered,  and  its  import  weighed 
before  it  was  placed  in  position."  Hence,  Poe  is,  beyond 
doubt,  a  great  literary  artist — except  Hawthorne,  the  greatest 
America  has  produced.  Perhaps  he  has  not  what  Mr.  Arnold 
calls  a  genius  and  instinct  for  style,  as  the  author  of  The 
Scarlet  Letter  certainly  had ;  but,  as  Lowell  remarks,  *'his 
style  is  highly  finished,  graceful,  and  truly  classical."  He 
has  force,  clearness,  and  ''a  wealth  of  jewel-like  words." ^ 
These  qualities  alone  would  long  save  his  tales  from  the 
mildew  and  the  canker-worm.  Yet,  these  are  not  all :  in 
The  Purloined  Letter,  and  The  Golden  Bug,  we  have  an 
analytical  power  surpassed  only  by  Balzac — in  Ligeia  and 
The  Fall  of  the  House  of  Usher  we  have  the  '*  grace  and 
natural  magic  of  the  Celt;"  in  Eleonore  and  Hann  Ffaale, 
the  brilliancy  of  De  Quincey.  Nor  are  there  in  The  Confes- 
sions of  an  Opium  Eater  any  passages  that  surpass  in  sublime 
terror  the  second  and  twenty-first  chapters  oi  Arthur  Gordon 
Pym;  while  the  concluding  chapter  of  the  same  tale  is  one  of 
the  most  ghastly  graphic  bits  of  writing  in  all  literature.  On 
the  other  hand,  what  a  vision  of  abiding  loveliness  the  necro- 
mancer of  the  weird  and  the  terrible  calls  up  in  The  Domain 
of  Arnheim.  "  Meanwhile,  the  whole  paradise  of  Arnheim 
bursts  upon  the  view.  There  is  a  gush  of  entrancing  melody ; 
there  is  an  oppressive  sense  of  strange  sweet  odour ;  there  is 
a  dream-like  intermingling  to  the  eye  of  tall  slender  Eastern 
trees,  bosky  shrubberies,  flocks  of  golden  and  crimson  birds, 
lily-fringed  lakes ;  meadows  of  violets,  tulips,  poppies, 
hyacinths  and  tuberoses ;  long  intertangled  lines  of  silver 
streamlets ;  and,  uprising  confusedly  from  amid  all,  a  mass 
of  semi-Gothic,  semi-Saracenic  architecture,  sustaining  itself, 
as  if  by  a  miracle,  in  mid-air,  glittering  in  the  red  sunlight 
with  a  hundred  oriels,  minarets,  and  pinnacles ;  and  seeming 
the  phantom  handiwork  conjointly  of  the  sylphs,  of  the 
fairies,  of  the  genii,  and  of  the  gnomes." 

^  See  preface  to  Poe's  Tales  in  Tauchnitz  edition. 
2  See  Lang's  Letters  to  Dead  Authors,  page  149, 


1128  Liturgical  Questions. 

As  a  poet,  Poe's  range  is  very  narrow.  *'  He  has  no 
humour,  no  general  sympathies,  no  dramatic  power."  His 
verse  never  palpitates  with  emotion,  never  rings  with  sounds 
of  laughter  and  sunny  life.  Old-world  memories  are  not 
woven  into  it,  nor  has  he  put  into  it  the  yearnings  and 
throbbings  of  his  own  day.  It  is  simply  a  wail  of  enchanted 
melody  above  a  tomb;  yet  a  wail,  once  heard,  that  ever  haunts 
the  memory.  And,  think  as  we  may  otherwise  of  such 
poems  as  The  Haunted  Palace,  The  City  in  the  Sea, 
The  Sleeper,  To  Helen — their  delicate  rhythm,  their 
matchless  music,  their  magic  words,  will  ever  secure  for 
their  author  one  of  the  highest  places  in  the  list  of  American 
poets. 

T.  Lee. 
(To  he  continued,) 


XitutQical  (aue6tion0. 


THE   ECCLESIASTICAL   CALENDAE. — II. 


THE  GOLDEN  NUMBEE. 

The  Greeks,  like  the  Eomans,  at  first  employed  the  lunar 
phases  as  their  measure  of  time.  The  length  of  a  lunation 
they  had  with  considerable  accuracy  calculated  to  be  on  an 
average  twenty-nine  and  a-half  days,  and  their  year  con- 
sisted of  twelve  such  lunations,  or  three  hundred  and  fifty- 
four  days.  But  Nature  soon  compelled  the  Greeks,  as  she 
did  the  Eomans,  to  bring  their  year  into  some  kind  of 
harmony  with  the  sun,  and  the  system  of  intercalation 
adopted  by  them  was  substantially  the  same  as  that  which 
we  have  seen  employed  by  the  Eomans.  Indeed,  it  is 
strongly  suspected  that  the  Eomans,  whose  ignorance  of 
astronomy  was  notorious,  borrowed  from  the  more  civi- 
lized  and  more    highly-gifted  Greeks  whatever    scientific 


Liturgical  Questions.  1129 

accuracy  their  early  calendar  could  boast  of.  The  moon, 
however,  still  remained  an  important  factor  in  the  calendar 
of  the  Greeks.  For  from  a  very  early  period  her  various 
phases  marked  the  dates  of  some  of  the  chief  festivals  of  the 
Grecian  deities.  And  as  these  phases  did  not,  as  the  year 
went  round,  fall  on  the  same  days  of  the  months  making  up 
the  solar  year,  it  became  a  matter  of  great  moment  to  find 
out  beforehand,  and  to  publish  to  the  people,  the  precise  days 
in  each  month  on  which  these  phases  and  their  annexed 
festivals  would  fall.  But  for  years  priests  and  astronomers 
laboured  in  vain  at  this  problem. 

At  length  Meton,  an  Athenian  astronomer,  succeeded  in 
solving  it.  He  discovered  that  nineteen  solar  years  are  so 
nearly  equal  in  length  to  a  certain  number  of  lunations — two 
hundred  and  thirty-five — that  at  the  end  of  this  period  the 
new  moons,  and,  consequently,  all  the  lunar  phases,  occur  on 
the  same  days  on  which  they  had  occurred  nineteen  years 
previously.  In  other  words,  he  discovered  that  in  every  nine- 
teenth year  the  different  lunar  phases  happen  on  the  same 
days  of  the  month.  Hence  it  was  only  necessary  to  mark 
the  dates  of  the  new  moons  for  one  period  of  nineteen 
years  in  order  to  have  a  calendar  that  would  serve  for  every 
succeeding  period  of  the  same  number  of  years.  Meton 
published  his  discovery  at  the  Olympic  games,  celebrated  at 
the  beginning  of  the  eighty-seventh  Olympiad,  or  in  the  year 
432  B.C.,  and  was  rewarded  with  the  Olympic  crown.  And 
not  satisfied  with  conferring  this  honour  upon  him,  his  fellow- 
citizens  had  the  numbers  expressing  the  dates  of  the  new 
moons  during  an  entire  cycle  engraved  in  golden  letters  on 
marble  slabs,  and  laid  up  in  the  temples  of  the  gods.  From 
this  circumstance  the  cycle  of  nineteen  years  came  to  be 
called  the  **  Cycle  of  the  Golden  Number ;"  and  the  numbers 
one,  two,  three,  .  .  .  nineteen,  were  called  the  "  Golden 
Numbers."  Hence  the  golden  number  of  a  particular  year 
is  that  one  of  these  numbers  which  indicates  the  order  of 
the  given  year  in  the  cycle  of  nineteen  years.  Thus  the  year 
having  one  as  its  golden  number  is  the  first  of  a  cycle ;  that 
having  two,  is  the  second ;  and  so  on  to  the  year  whose 
golden  number  is  nineteen,  which  is  the  last  of  the  cycle. 


1130  Liturgical  Questions. 

The  next  year  will  then  be  the  first  of  a  new  cycle,  and  have 
one  for  its  golden  number. 

This  cycle  of  golden  numbers,  or  Metonic  cycle,  was  first 
employed  in  determining  the  date  of  Easter  by  Anatolius, 
Bishop  of  Laodicea,  in  Syria,  towards  the  close  of  the  third 
century.  And  when  the  Council  of  Nice  committed  to  the 
Patriarch  of  Alexandria  the  task  of  calculating  the  time  for 
celebrating  Easter  each  year,  it  was  this  cycle  that  was 
recommended  and  used  for  that  purpose  by  the  mathema- 
ticians of  Alexandria.  Meton,  as  we  have  seen,  published 
his  discovery  in  the  year  432  B.C.,  and  made  this  the  first 
year  of  the  cycle.  Continuing  a  series  of  cycles  from  that 
date,  we  find  that  the  year  1  a.d.  should  have  been  the 
fifteenth  year  of  the  current  cycle ;  which,  consequently,  should 
have  begun  with  the  year  14  B.C.  But  in  adopting  the  dis- 
covery of  Meton  for  the  purpose  of  determining  the  date  of 
the  Paschal  celebrations,  the  Christian  scientists  did  not  adopt 
his  point  of  departure,  but  selected  instead  the  year  imme- 
diately preceding  the  commencement  of  the  Christian  era. 
This  year  was  selected  for  two  reasons;  first,  because  it 
was  the  year  in  which  Christ  was  born — for  the  Christian 
era  does  not  pretend  to  begin  with  the  year  of  the  Nativity, 
but  with  the  year  which  begun  on  the  1st  January,  just  one 
week  after  the  day  of  the  Nativity.  The  second  and  more 
scientific  reason  was,  that  in  that  year  the  new  moon  fell  on 
the  1st  January.  Knowing  now  the  year  from  which  our 
present  series  of  cycles  of  golden  numbers  begins,  it  is  easy 
to  find  the  golden  number  of  any  given  year  in  the  Christian 
era,  past,  present,  or  future.  For  since  the  year  immediately 
preceding  the  year  1  a.d.  was  the  first  of  a  cycle,  it  follows 
that  the  year  1  a.d.  itself  was  the  second,  the  year  2  a.d.  the 
third,  and  the  year  18  a.d.  the  nineteenth,  or  last  year  of 
the  first  cycle.  The  first  year  of  the  second  cycle  was, 
therefore,  19  a.d.  ;  the  second  year,  20  a.d.  ;  and  so  on.  Hence 
the  general  rule  for  finding  the  golden  number  of  any  year 
since  the  birth  of  Christ  is  to  add  one  to  the  date  of  the 
particular  year,  and  divide  the  sum  by  nineteen.  The 
remainder  is  the  golden  number ;  and  if  there  is  no  remainder 
the  golden  number  is  nineteen,  or  the  year  is  the  last  of  the 


Liturgical  Questions.  1131 

cycle.  Thus  we  find  that  eleven  is  the  golden  number  for 
the  present  year,  1891.    For — 

1891  -f  1    _  qq  11 
19 ^^  19 

Therefore,  the  year  1891  is  the  eleventh  year  of  the 
hundredth  Metonic  cycle,  as  this  cycle  has  been  employed 
in  Christian  times.  The  golden  number  for  1892  will,  of 
course,  be  twelve  ;  that  for  1893,  will  be  thirteen  ;  and  1899 
will  be  the  last  year  of  the  current  cycle. 

The  Metonic  Cycle,  as  we  have  seen,  was  founded  on  the 
hypothesis  that  nineteen  solar  years  and  two  hundred  and 
thirty-five  average  lunations  cover  exactly  the  same  interval 
of  time.  This  hypothesis,  though  not  absolutely  correct, 
was  still  wonderfully  near  the  truth,  and  gives  evidence  of 
the  surprising  accuracy  to  which  astronomical  science  had 
attained  even  so  early  as  the  time  of  Meton.  The  length  of 
the  average  year  is  365  d.  5  h.  48'  48".  In  nineteen  years, 
therefore,  there  are 

19  X  365  d.  5h.  48'  48''  =  6939  d.  14  h.  Ti'  12". 

The  average  lunation,  or  lunar  month,  contains  29  d.  12 h. 
44'  3" ;  consequently,  two  hundred  and  thirty-five  such  luna- 
tions will  contain  : — 

235  X  29  d.  12  h.  44^  3"  =  6939  d.  16  h.  31'  45". 

It  appears,  therefore,  that  two  hundred  and  thirty-five 
lunations  are  longer  than  nineteen  years  by  just  2  h.  4'  33" ; 
so  that  Meton  was  right  in  saying  that,  after  nineteen  years 
the  lunar  phases  would  again  occur  on  the  same  days  of  the 
months  ;  but,  for  complete  accuracy,  he  should  have  added 
that  they  would  occur  2h.  4'  33"  later  in  the  day.  If,  for 
example,  the  first  new  moon  of  432  B.C.  fell  on  the  1st 
January,  at  10  a.m.,  in  the  year  413  B.C.  the  new  moon 
would  have  fallen  on  the  1st  January  ;  but  at  four  and  a-half 
minutes  past  noon,  and  at  two  hours  and  nine  minutes  past 
noon  in  394  B.C.,  and  so  on.  Thus  it  will  be  seen  that  after 
the  lapse  of  twelve  cycles,  the  lunar  phases  would  not  occur 
for  an  entire  day  after  the  dates  indicated  by  the  Cycle  of 
Golden  Numbers, 


1132  Liturgical  Questions. 

But  we  must  bear  in  mind,  that  up  to  the  time  of  the 
Gregorian  reform  of  the  calendar  the  average  year  was 
reckoned  as  consisting  of  exactly  three  hundred  and  sixty-five 
days  six  hours.  Therefore,  a  cycle  of  nineteen  years  con- 
tained : — 

19  X  365  d.  6h.  =  6939d.  18h. ; 

so  that  two  hundred  and  thirty-five  lunations,  amounting,  as 
we  have  just  seen  to  6939 d.  16 h.  31'  45"  was  1  h.  28'  15" 
shorter  than  nineteen  years. -^  It  might  seem  that  so  small 
a  discrepancy,  repeated  only  after  the  lapse  of  nineteen  years, 
might  be  entirely  neglected.  But,  small  though  it  is,  when 
allowed  to  accumulate  it  amounts  to  a  day  in  about  three 
hundred  and  ten  years.     And  it  was  allowed  to  accumulate 


1  It  should,  however,  be  remarked  that  the  manner  in  which  the  luna- 
tions of  the  calendar  have  always  been  reckoned  makes  two  hundred  and 
thirty-five  lunations,  exactly  equal  in  duration  to  nineteen  Julian  years  of 
three  hundred  and  sixty-five  and  a-quarter  days  each.  It  is  not  so  easy  to 
make  this  clear.  However,  the  following  attempt  should  be  fairly  intelli- 
gible : — In  reckoning  the  time  of  a  lunation,  the  calendar  neglects  entirely 
the  minutes  and  seconds,  and  makes  twenty-nine  and  a-half  days  the 
average  time.  But,  to  avoid  fractions,  thirty  and  twenty-nine  days  are 
given  to  alternate  lunations,  those  which  terminate  in  the  odd  months  of 
the  year,  namely,  January,  March,  May,  &c.,  getting  thirty  ;  and  those 
which  terminate  in  the  even  months,  twenty-nine.  In  leap-years  the 
lunation  terminating  in  March  gets  an  additional  day,  and  in  these  years, 
therefore,  has  thirty-one  days.  Hence  in  the  common  lunar  year,  consist- 
ing of  six  months  of  thirty  days,  and  six  of  twenty-nine  days  each,  there 
are  just  three  hundred  and  fifty-four  days.  And  nineteen  such  lunar  years 
will  therefore  contain 

354d.  xl9  =  6726d. 

But  the  common  solar  year  of  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days  has 
eleven  days  more  than  the  lunar  year ;  and  nineteen  common  solar  years, 
neglecting  leap-years  for  the  present,  have  19  x  11  =  209  days  more  than 
nineteen  lunar  years  of  twelve  months  each.  These  two  hundred  and  nine 
days  are  distributed  in  the  following  manner : — As  often  as  the  excess  of 
the  solar  over  the  lunar  year  accumulates  to  thirty  days  or  upwards,  a 
lunar  month  of  thirty  days  is  intercalated.  This  intercalation  takes  place 
seven  times  in  the  cycle  of  nineteen  years,  as  may  easily  be  shown,  and  the 
years  of  the  cycle  in  which  it  takes  place  are  the  third,  sixth,  ninth, 
eleventh,  fourteenth,  seventeenth,  and  nineteenth.  For  after  three  years  the 
excess  of  the  solar  over  the  lunar  year  amounts  to  3  x  11  =  33  days.  When 
the  intercalary  month  of  thirty  days  is  taken  from  this  accumulated  excess 
three  days  remain,  which  are  carried  forward.  At  the  end  of  the  sixth 
year  the  excess  amounts  to  3x11-1-3  =  36  days ;  and  when  thirty  days  are 
dropped  six  remain.  These  six,  together  with  the  constant  excess  of 
eleven  days  in  each  year,  will  produce  an  excess  of  thirty-nine  days  at  the 


Liturgical  Questions.  1133 

during  the  one  thousand  two  hundred  and  fifty-seven  years 
that  elapsed  between  the  Council  of  Nice  and  the  reformation 
of  the  calendar  by  Gregory  XIII. ;  so  that  at  the  latter  date 
the  lunar  phases  happened  four  entire  days  before  the  dates 
indicated  by  the  Golden  Numbers.  This,  then,  was  another 
error  which  Pope  Gregory  had  to  correct.  The  removal  of 
the  accumulated  error  of  four  days  was  a  very  simple  process, 
as  it  was  only  necessary  to  raise  the  Golden  Numbers  four 
lines  in  the  new  calendar.  This  was  all  the  more  easy, 
because  these  numbers  had  to  be  disturbed  at  any  rate ;  for, 
owing  to  the  omission  of  the  ten  nominal  days,  it  was 
necessary  to  lower  the  Golden  Numbers  ten  lines.  But  it 
was  not  quite  so  easy  to  find  a  means  by  which  the  Golden 
Numbers  might  be  permanently  availed  of  for  the  purpose 

eiid  of  the  ninth  year.  From  this  a  remainder  of  nine  days  is  left  after  the 
intercalary  month  has  been  deducted.  At  the  end  of  the  tenth  year, 
therefore,  the  excess  is  9+11  =20,  and  at  the  end  of  the  eleventh  it  is 
20-fll  =  31.  Consequently,  the  third  intercalation  takes  place  in  the 
eleventh  year  of  the  cycle,  and  leaves  one  to  be  carried  forward.  In 
the  same  way  it  may  be  shown  that  the  intercalation  takes  place  in  the 
fourteenth,  seventeenth,  and  nineteenth  years  ;  but  the  intercalary  month 
in  the  nineteenth  year  must  have  only  twenty-nine  instead  of  thirty  days, 
days.  Of  the  seven  intercalary  months  occurring  in  nineteen  years,  there- 
fore, six  have  thirty  days  each,  and  the  seventh  twenty-nine.  Adding 
these  together  we  have 

6x30+29  =  209  days. 
For  the  duration  of  two  himdred  and  thirty-five  lunations  we  have  now 
reckoned 

6726+209  =  6935  days. 
But  nineteen  Julian  years,  as  we  have  seen,  have  six  thousand  nine 
hundred  and  thirty-nine  days  eighteen  hours  ;  we  still,  therefore,  require 
four  days  eighteen  hours,  or  four  and  three-quarter  days  to  make  the  time 
of  two  himdred  and  thirty-five  lunations  correspond  with  nineteen  Julian 
years.  These  days  we  can  easily  find.  It  has  been  stated  in  this  note  that 
the  lunation  terminating  in  March  has  thirty-one  days  in  a  leap-year; 
Now,  in  nineteen  years  there  are  sometimes  five  and  sometimes  four  leap- 
years.  Hence  two  hundred  and  thirty-five  lunations  have  sometimes 
6935+5  =  6940  days,  and  sometimes  6935+4  =  6939  days.  When  the 
first,  second,  or  third  year  of  the  cycle  is  a  leap-year,  there  are  five  such 
years  in  the  cycle,  and  when  the  fourth  is  a  leap-year  there  are  but  four. 
In  a  period,  then,  of  four  cycles,  five  days  will  be  added  three  times  on 
account  of  the  leap-years,  and  four  days  only  once ;  or  in  the  entire  four 
cycles  there  will  be  3X5+4  =  19  days  added  on  account  of  the  leap- 
years.  This  gives  for  each  cycle  an  average  of  four  and  three-quarter  days, 
or  four  days  eighteen  hours,  which ,  being  added  to  the  six  thousand  nine 
hundred  and  thirty-five  days  already  obtained,  makes 

6935+4f  =  6939|  days,  or  6939  days  18  hours. 


1134  Liturgical  Questions. 

for  which  they  were  first  intended,  namely,  for  indicating 
the  lunar  phases.  For,  as  we  have  seen,  in  a  period  of  about 
three  hundred  and  ten  years  these  phases  would  occur  a  full 
day  earlier  than  the  Grolden  Numbers  indicated.  On  this 
account,  therefore,  it  would  be  necessary  to  raise  the  Golden 
Numbers  one  line  in  every  three  hundred  and  ten  years. 
Moreover,  the  Cycle  of  Golden  Numbers  was  constructed  to 
suit  the  Julian  calendar  ;  and,  as  the  new  calendar  omitted 
in  every  four  hundred  years  three  days  which  the  Julian 
calendar  retained,  another  change  in  the  Golden  Numbers 
would  have  been  required.  For  after  each  century  year,  not 
a  leap-year,  it  would  be  necessary  to  lower  the  Golden 
Numbers  one  line.  Having  taken  these  complicated  and 
irregular  changes  into  consideration,  Clavius,  in  compiling 
the  new  calendar,  dropped  the  Cycle  of  Golden  Numbers 
altogether,  and  invented  and  introduced  in  its   stead  the 


Cycle  of  Epacts. 


{To  he  continued.) 


1.  Should  the  '*  laus  tibi  christe,"  be   sung  by  the 

choir  in  a  solemn  mass? 

2.  The  prayer  to  be  said  in  blessing  the  grave. 

8.  The  days   on  which  solemn  requiem  mass  **  prae- 

sente  cadavers  "  is  forbidden. 
4  Order  of  lighting  and  extinguishing  the  candles 

on  the  altar. 

"  Bev.  Dear  Sir, — Kindly  state  in  the  pages  of  the  I.  E. 
Record  what  should  be  done  in  the  following  cases,  and  greatly 
oblige,  "  Sacerdos." 

^'  1.  In  a  *  Missa  Solemni  vel  Cantata,'  should  the  choir 
answer  '  Laus  Tibi  Christe,'  at  the  end  of  the  Gospel  chanted  by 
the  deacon  or  celebrant,  or  should  the  acolyte  answer  as  at  a  low 
mass? 

"2.  In  *  exsequiis  parvulorum,'  when  the  grave  is  not  already 
blessed,  what  prayer  should  be  said  in  blessing  it?  Must  we  use 
the  '  Deus  cujus  miseratione,'  &c,? 

"  3.  Enumerate  the  days  on  which  the  '  Missa  solemnis  vel 
cantata  de  Requie,'  the  body  being  present  in  the  church,  cannot 
be  celebrated.     Rubricists  do  not  seem  to  agree  on  these  days. 


Liturgical  Questions,  1135 

"  4.  On  which  side  of  the  altar  should  the  acolyte  begin  to 
light  the  candles  ?  Some  rubricists  say  on  the  Gospel  side,  while 
others  say  the  contrary. 

1.  The  words,  Laus  tihi  Christen  should  not  be  sung  by 
the  choir  either  in  a  solemn  mass  or  in  a  missa  cantata  : 
they  may  be  said  by  the  assistants  as  in  an  ordinary  mass, 
but  in  a  low  tone. 

2.  The  prayer  Deus  cujus  miseratione  is  to  be  used  in 
blessing  the  grave  when  the  corpse  to  be  interred  is  that  of 
an  infant,  as  well  as  when  it  is  of  an  adult. 

3.  The  reason  why  rubricists  differ  in  their  enumeration 
of  the  days  on  which  a  solemn  requiem  mass  praesente  cada- 
vere  cannot  be  said,  is,  that  the  rubricists  did  not  all  live  or 
write  at  the  same  time,  and  that  the  Congregation  of  Eites 
has  from  time  to  time  added  another  to  the  list  of  days 
already  included.  Thus,  in  comparatively  recent  times,  the 
feasts  of  the  Immaculate  Conception,  of  St.  Joseph,  and  of 
dedication  of  a  church,  have  been  added.  The  list  complete 
up  to  the  present  is  as  follows : — 

{a)  The  last  three  days  of  Holy  Week. 

(b)  The  feasts  of  Christmas,  Epiphany,  Easter,  the 
Ascension,  Pentecost,  Corpus  Christi,  the  Assumption,  the 
Immaculate  Conception,  St.  John  the  Baptist,  St.  Joseph, 
SS.  Peter  and  Paul,  All  Saints,  the  chief  patron  of  a  place 
or  of  a  diocese,  the  titular  or  patron  of  a  church,  and  the 
anniversary  of  the  dedication  of  a  church. 

(c)  In  countries  where  any  of  the  feasts  just  mentioned 
are  transferred.to^the  Sundays  following,  requiem  masses  are 
forbidden  on  these  Sundays. 

(d)  In  a  church  in  which  the  Blessed  Sacrament  is 
exposed  for  the  Devotion  of  the  Forty  Hours,  or  for  any 
other  public  cause. 

4.  When  the  candles  on  the  altar  are  lighted  by  one 
acolyte,  he  begins  with  the  candle  on  the  Gospel  side  ;  and  if 
more  than  two  candles  are  to  be  lighted,  he  lights  first  that 
candle  on  the  Gospel  side  which  is  nearest  to  the  centre  of 
the  altar ;  and  having  lighted  all  the  candles  on  the  Gospel 
side,  he  lights  those  on  the  Epistle  side,  beginning  in  this 
case  also  with  the  candle  next  the  centre  of  the  altar.     He 


1136  Correspo7ide7ice. 

extinguishes  the  candle  in  the  opposite  order ;  that  is,  he 
begins  with  the  candle  on  the  Epistle  side  farthest  from  the 
centre.  We  have  already  given  in  the  I.  E.  Re  coed  our 
reasons  for  considering  this  the  correct  order  of  lighting  and 
extinguishing  the  candles. 

D.    O'LOAN. 


Corre0pon5ence. 


THE  TEXT  ''  THE  JUST  MAN  FALLS  SEVEN  TIMES  A  DAY.'' 
"  Eev.  Dear  Sir, — 'The  just  man  falls  seven  tiuieQ  a  day.' 
This  statement  is  found  in  many  Catholic  books — v.g.,  Bemevi- 
hrancefor  the  Living  to  Pray  for  the  Dead  (Eev.  J.  Mumford,  S.J.), 
chap.  iii.  What  authority  is  there  for  seven  times  a  day  ?  In 
Proverbs  xxiv.  16,  it  is  said,  '  Shall  fall  seven  times,  and  shall 
rise  again ;'  but  a  day  is  not  in  the  text ." 

In  reply  to  our  respected  correspondent,  we  have  no 
hesitation  in  saying  that  the  words  "a  day"  ought  not  to 
stand  in  the  text. 

The  words,  "  a  just  man  shall  fall  seven  times,"  &c., 
occur  in  no  other  part  of  the  Bible  than  Prov.  xxiv.  16 ;  and 
in  that  passage  the  words  "  a  day"  should  not  be  read. 
They  are  wanting  in  the  Hebrew,  in  the  Vulgate,  in  the 
Septuagint,  in  the  Greek  versions  of  Aquila,  Theodotion, 
and  Symmachus,  and  in  the  early  fathers  who  quote  the 
text. 

How,  then,  it  will  be  asked,  have  the  words  crept  into 
the  text,  so  as  to  be  quoted,  as  they  undoubtedly  are,  in  not 
a  few  pious  books  ?  I  believe  the  explanation  is  to  be  found 
in  the  fact  that  they  are  read  in  the  text  as  quoted  by  the  cele- 
brated Cassian  in  the  thirteenth  chapter  of  his  twenty-second 
Conference.  Cassian' s  work,  written  in  the  beginning  of 
the  fifth  century,  has  been  largely  read  and  used  by  spiritual 
writers  ever  since  his  time,  and  so  the  text  as  quoted  by  him 
may  have  easily  passed  into  other  authors.  Be  this  as  it 
may,  the  only  other  authorities  for  the  words  "  a  day  "  are 
the  author  of  the  Greek  Cate7ia,  and  a  few  manuscripts 
which  are  not  of  much  critical  value.  J.  M.  E. 


[    1137    ] 

2)ocument0» 


Letter  of  His  Holiness  Pope  Leo  XHI.  on  the 
extension  and  improvement  of  the  vatican  obser- 
VATORY. 

MOTU-PROPRIO     SANCTISSIMI    D.   N.   LeONIS    XIII.;     DE   VATICANA 
SPECULA   ASTRONOMICA   RESTITUENDA    ET   AMPLIFICANDA. 

Ut  mysticam  Sponsam  Christi,  qui  lux  vera  est,  in  contemp- 
tum  et  invidiam  vocarent,  tenebrarum  filii  consnevere  in  vulgus 
earn  vecordi  calumnia  impetere,  et,  conversa  rerum  nominumque 
ratione  et  vi,  compellare  obscuritatis  amicam,  altricem  igno- 
rantiae,  scientiarum  lumini  et  progressui  infensam.  At  quae 
primis  ab  exordiis  Ecclesiae  gessit  et  docuit  homines,  ea  satis 
refellunt  et  coarguunt  turpis  mendacii  impudentiam.  Nam 
praeter  notitiam  rerum  divinarum,  in  qua  veritatis  sola  magistra 
fuit,  praestantiores  etiam  philosophiae  partes,  quae  summa  sta- 
tuunt  principia  et  fundamenta  scientiarum  omnium,  quaeve 
rationem  veritatis  detegendae,  recteque  ac  subtiliter  disserendi 
tradunt,  vel  animi  vim  ac  facultates  explicant,  aut  in  vitam 
hominum  moresque  inquirunt,  ita  per  Doctores  suos  excoluit  et 
illustravit,  ut  difl&cile  sit  novum  aliquid  memoria  dignum  iis 
adiicere,  periculosum  sit  ab  iis  discedere. 

Summa  praeterea  laus  est  Ecclesiae,  quod  iuris  prudentiam 
perfecerit  atque  expolierit,  nee  uUa  delebit  oblivio  quantum  ipsa 
contulit  doctrinis,  exemplis  et  institutis  suis  ad  implexas  quaes- 
tiones  expediendas,  in  quibus  scriptores  haerent  scientiarum,  quae 
oeco7iomicae  et  sociales  audiunt.  Interim  vero  ne  illas  quidem 
neglexit  disciplinas  quae  in  naturae  eiusque  virium  exploratione 
versantur.  Scholas  namque  condidit  et  musea  instruxit,  quo 
penitius  illas  inventus  addisceret,  suosque  inter  filios  et  adminis- 
tros  egregios  habuit  earum  cultores,  quos  ope  sua  adiutos  et 
ornatos  honore  ad  ea  studia  impensius  colenda  excitavit. 

Eminet  in  hoc  scientiarum  numero  astronomia,  quippe  cui  ea 
proposita  sunt  vestiganda,  quae  prae  ceteris  inanimis  rebus 
enarrant  gloriam  Dei ;  ac  virorum  omnium  sapientissimum  miri- 
fice  delectabant,  qui  lumine  divinitus  indito  nosse  se  laetabatur 
imprimis  "  anni  cursus  et  stellarum  dispositiones  "  (Sap.  vii.  19.) 
VOL,  XII.  4  0 


1138  Documents. 

Porro  ad  curanda  huius  scientiae  incrementa  et  fovendos  cultores 
eius  illud  quoque  incitamento  fuit  Ecclesiae  Pastoribus,  quod 
huius  unius  ope  certo  possint  constituti  dies,  quibus  celebrari 
oporteat  ea  quae  maxima  et  religiosissima  sunt  mysteriorum 
Christi  solemnia.  Quo  factum  est,  ut  Tridentini  Patres  qui 
probe  noverant  perturbatam  esse  rationem  temporum,  quae  non 
satis  commode,  lulio  Caesare  auctore,  fuerat  emendata,  rogarunt 
enixe  Eomanum  Pontificem  ut,  viris  doctissimis  in  consilium 
adhibitis,  novam  ac  perfectiorem  conficeret  annorum  dierumque 
ordinationem. 

Quanta  fuerit  in  ea  re  gerenda  Gregorii  XIII.  Praedecessoris 
Nostri  diligentia,  constantia  et  liberalitas  satis  compertum  est  ex 
indubiis  historiae  monumentis.  Scilicet  in  ea  quae  aptissima 
videbatur  parte  Vaticanarum  aedium  speculatoriam  turrim  exci- 
tari  iussit,  quam  instrumentis  ornavit,  quae  ferebat  aetas  ilia 
maxima  et  accuratissima,  ibique  conventus  habuit  doctorum 
hominum  qiios  Kalendario  restituendo  praefecerat.  Manet  adhuc 
ea  turris  munifici  auctoris  sui  illustria  praeseferens  indicia,  ex- 
tatque  in  ea  linea  meridiana  constructa  ab  Egnatio  Danti 
Perusino,  eique  marmorea  tabula  rotunda  interiecta,  cuius  signa 
scienter  exarata  demissis  ex  alto  radiis  icta  solis,  necessitatem 
emendandae  veteris  rationis  temporum  et  consentientem  rerum 
naturae  restitutionem  peractam  demonstrant. 

Haec  turris,  monumentum  nobile  Pontificis  de  scientiis  ac 
litteris  optime  meriti,  ad  pristinum  caelestium  observationum 
usum  post  diutinam  intermissionem  revocata  est  imperio  et 
auspicio  Pii  VI.,  flectente  ad  exitum  saeculo  superiore.  Tum 
cura  et  studio  Philippi  Gilii,  urbani  Antistitis  aliae  etiam  adiectae 
sunt  explorationes,  quae  vim  magneticam,  tempestates  aeris 
vitamque  plantarum  spectarent.  Ast  eo  demortuo  docto  et 
industrio  viro,  anno  huius  saeculi  vicesimo  primo,  templum  hoc 
scientiae  astronomicae  neglectum  desertumque  fuit ;  nam  brevi 
postea  Pii  VII.  mors  est  insecuta,  Leonis  autem  XII.  curas  ad  se 
convertit  grandius  inceptum  scientiarum  omnium  complectens 
incrementum  et  decus,  nova  nimirum  instauratio  rationis  studio- 
rum  in  Pontificia  ditione  universa.  Hanc  ab  immortali  Deces- 
sore  suo  cogitatam  perfecit  ille  feliciter,  datis  Litteris  Apostolicis 
quarum  initium :  "  Qtiod  divina  sapientia."  Ibi  nonnulla  gra- 
viter  constituit  de  speculis  astronomicis,  de  observationibus 
assidue  peragendis,  de  scriptione  ephemeridum,  quae  explorata 
referrent,  deque  studio  adhibendo,  ut  quae  ab  exteris  detecta 
forent  oostratibus  innotescerent, 


Documents.  1139 

Si  Vaticana  turris  posthabita  est  quum  aliae  in  Urbe  instructae 
suppeterent,  id  ex  eo  profectum  videtur,  quod  qui  tunc  rerura 
huiusmodi  peritia  praestabant,  huic  turri  obesse  censerent  vicinas 
aedes,  maximeque  obiectum  tholi  praecelsi  qui  Vaticanum  tem- 
plum  coronat.  Hinc  illae  potiores  speculae  videbantur  quae 
caelum  ex  aliis  editis  locis  circumspectant .  Postquam  vero  ea 
loca  cum  reliqua  Urbe  in  alienam  potestatem  devenere,  agen- 
tibus  Nobis  quinquagesimum  primum  sacerdotii  Nostri  natalem 
diem,  plura  cum  aliis  muneribus  oblata  sunt  instrumenta,  affabre 
facta,  quae  cultoribus  physices  caelestis,  aeriae  et  terrestris  usui 
sunt ;  atqui  nullam  illis  aptiorem  sedem  tribui  posse  viri  physicae 
scientiae  peritissimi  putaverunt  prae  ea,  quam  Gregorius  XIII. 
iis  quodammodo  paravisse  in  Vaticana  turri  videbatur.  Quum 
ea  sententia  Nobis  probata  esset;  ipsa  aedificii  natura,  veteris 
gloriae  eius  memoria,  et  collecta  suppellex,  non  secus  ac  vota 
virorum  prudentia  et  doctrina  praestantium,  Nobis  suasere,  ut 
iuberemus  earn  speculam  restitui,  rebusque  omnibus  ornari  et 
instrui,  per  quae  non  modo  astronomiae  studiis  esset  profutura, 
sed  etiam  pervestigationibus  physicae  terrestris,  et  pernoscendis 
phaenomenis  quae  in  aeria  regione  contingunt.  Quod  porro 
amplitudini  prospectus  deesse  videbatur  ut  quoquoversus  pateret 
latissime  ad  sidera  eorumque  motus  explorandos,  id  commode 
praestitit  vicinitas  Leoniani  propugnaculi  veteri  soliditate  nobilis, 
cuius  turris  editissima  in  vertice  collis  vaticani  assurgens  maxi- 
mas  praebet  opportunitates,  ut  inde  astrorum  observatio  plenis- 
sima  sit  et  numeris  omnibus  absoluta.  Hanc  itaque  adiutricem 
addidimus  Gregorianae  speculae,  eoque  deferri  iussimus  ingens 
optices  instrumentum  quod  aequatoriale  dicunt,  ad  photographicas 
siderum  imagines  excipiendas  comparatum. 

Ad  haec  gnaros  sollertesque  viros  selegimus,  quorum  minis- 
terio  ea  omnia  praestarentur  quae  suscepti  operis  natura  flagitat, 
iisque  praefecimus  virum  rei  astronomicae  et  physicae  scientis-, 
simum,  P.  Franciscum  Denza  ex  Clericis  Eegularibus  S.  Pauli 
Barnabitis  nuncupatis.  Horum  industria  freti  libenter  annuimus 
Vaticanam  speculam  in  societatem  partemque  operis  vocari  cum 
aliis  praeclarissimis  Institutis  rei  astronomicae  provehendae 
addictis,  quibus  propositum  est  ,tabulas  photographicas  conficere 
quae  totius  caeli,  prout  nitet,  frequentibus  stellis  conspersum, 
accurate  imaginem  referant.  Quum  autem  susceptum  a  Nobis 
opus  in  hac  specula  restituenda  non  brevi  interire,  sed  perpetuum 
fieri  optemus,  legem  ei  dedimus  quae  regulas  praescribit,  quas  in 


1140  Documents. 

rebus  ibi  gerendis  ac  ministeriis  obeundis  servari  volumus.  Con- 
silium praeterea  constituimus  virorum  lectissimorum"  penes  quod 
sum  ma  sit  totius  rei  moderatio,  et  maxima  post  Nostram  potestas 
in  iis  quae  spectant  internum  eius  ordinem  decernendis. 

lamvero  banc  legem  et  hoc  Consilium,  non  secus  ac  dela- 
tionem  variorum  munerum  et  reliqua  quae  hucusque  iussu  vel 
consensu  Nostro  circa  Vaticanam  speculam  acta  sunt,  per  hasce 
Litteras  solemniter  confirmamus,  eamque  in  eodem  ordine  baberi 
volumus  cum  aliis  Pontificiis  Institutis  quae  scientiarum  colen- 
darum  causa  condita  sunt.  Imo  quo  firmius  operis  stabilitati 
consulamus,  pecuniae  vim  eidem  attribuimus  cuius  reditus 
sumptus  eidem  servando  tuendoque  decenter  necessarios  suppe- 
ditet.  Tametsi  magis  quam  humanis  praesidiis,  illud  tectum  iri 
florensque  fore  confidimus  favore  et  ope  omnipotentis  Dei  ', 
namque  in  eo  aggrediendo  non  modo  incrementis  studuimus 
scientiae  praenobilis,  quae  mortalium  animos  prae  ceteris  humanis 
disciplinis  ad  rerum  caelestium  contemplationem  erigit,  sed  illud 
praecipue  animo  intendimus  quod  ab  ipsis  Nostri  Pontificatus 
exordiis  constanter,  ubi  data  est  occasio,  verbis,  scriptis  rebusque 
gestis  praestare  adnisi  sumus,  curare  scilicet,  ut  omnibus  per- 
suasum  sit,  Ecclesiam  eiusque  Pastores,  prout  initio  diximus, 
non  odisse  veram  solidamque  scientiam  cum  divinarum  turn 
humanarum  rerum,  sed  earn  complecti  et  fovere,  et  qua  valent 
ope  studiose  provehere. 

Omnia  igitur  quae  Litteris  hisce  Nostris  statuimus  et  declara- 
vimus,  rata  et  firma,  uti  sunt,  ita  in  posterum  esse  volumus  ac 
iubemus,  irritumque  et  inane  futurum  decernimus,  siquid  super 
his  a  quoquam  contigerit  attentari,  contrariis  quibuscumque  non 
obstantibus. 

Datum  Romae  apud  S.  Petrum  die  xiv.  Martii  anno  mdcccxci., 
Pontij&catus  Nostri  decimo  quarto. 

Leo  pp.,  XIII. 


L    1141    ] 

moticea  of  Boofta* 


Shokt  Instbuctions  in  the  Art  of  Singing  Plain- 
Chant,  WITH  AN  Appendix  containing  all  Vesper 
Psalms  and  the  Magnificat,  the  Kesponses  for 
Vespers,  the  Antiphons  of  the  B.V.M.,  and 
Various  Hymns  for  Benediction.  Designed  for  the 
use  of  Catholic  Choirs  and  Schools.  By  T.  Singenberger. 
Third  Eevised  and  Enlarged  Edition,  1888.  New  York 
and  Cincinatti.     Fr.  Pustet  &  Co.     Price  25  cents. 

This  little  booklet  shows  the  practical  American.  Having  set 
about  writing  short  instructions  on  Plain-Chant,  for  the  use  of 
Catholic  choirs  and  schools,  he  confines  himself  well  to  his 
purpose,  and  comprises,  within  thirty-seven  pages,  such  informa- 
tion on  the  subject,  as  will  prove  useful  for  the  readers  it  is 
intended  for.  The  author  has  largely  drawn  upon  Haberl's 
Magister  Choralis  far  more  than  his  occasional  reference  to  that 
book  would  make  the  reader  suppose.  This,  however,  does  not, 
of  course,  interfere  with  the  usefulness  of  the  booklet.  Speaking 
generally,  we  cannot  but  approve  fully  of  the  manner  in  which 
the  subject  is  dealt  with.  But,  starting  from  the  principle  that 
in  a  school-book,  above  all  things,  everything  should  be  clear  and 
correct,  we  have  to  make  a  few  objections. 

§  5  deals  with  the  notes ;  §  6  with  the  tones  and  scales.  This 
order  should  be  inverted.  For,  as  in  the  order  of  nature,  the 
thing  precedes  the  sig7i,  so  it  should  also  in  the  order  of  treatment. 
The  quotation  on  page  5  is  not  from  St.  Benedict,  but  from  Pope 
Benedict  XIV 

The  names  of  the  notes  are  given  in  the  following  order : 
0,  d,  e,  /,  g,  a,  b,  c.  We  think  it  would  be  more  reasonable 
to  give  them  thus  :  a,  b,  c,  d,  e,f,g,  a.  The  pupil  would  then  at 
once  see  that  these  names  are  the  first  seven  letters  of  the  Alpha- 
bet, and  would  have  no  difficulty  in  remembering  them.  The 
method  of  beginning  with  c  is  the  result  of  an  over- estimation 
of  the  modern  major  scale,  which  is  too  common  indeed  in  our 
days,  but  from  which  a  writer  on  Gregorian  chant  should  be 
free.  The  distinction  between  singing  false  and  incorrectly,  given 
in  §  11,  will  probably  seem  to  an  Englishman  just  as  unwarranted 
as  to  a  German  Haberl's  distinction  of  the  German  words  of 
which  those  are  the  translation 


1142  Notices  of  Books. 

We  cannot  recommend  the  exercises  given  for  striking  the 
intervals.  It  v^ere  better  had  they  been  omitted.  The  rule 
for  pronouncing  the  diphthongs,  given  in  §  12,  2,  is  neither 
clear  nor  correct.  That  E,  in  Latin,  before  consonants  in 
general  is  pronounced  as  e  in  met  (§  13,  1),  and  that  Ui  is 
a  diphthong  in  huic  and  cioi,  is  a  new  teaching,  as  far  as  we 
know.  For  the  consonants,  the  general  rule  is  given  :  'pronounce 
them  as  they  are  writte7i.  It  would  be  difficult  to  pro- 
nounce an  Z,  for  instance,  straight,  or  a  c  round,  or  a  gr  crooked. 
The  writer  meant,  of  course,  that  they  should  be  pronounced  as 
in  English. 

In  §  15  the  author  gives  the  following  form  of  the 
Podatus  :  ^■.  It  must  be  mentioned  that,  since  1883,  at  least, 
this  form  is  not  used  in  the  official  editions.  As  to  the  execution 
of  the  neumes,  the  author  would,  in  a  future  edition,  better  adopt 
the  rules  given  by  Haberl  in  the  ninth  edition  of  his  Magister 
Choralis.  On  page  27  the  author  says  that  "the  authentic  modes 
generally  go  one  tone  below  their  final,  and  the  plagals  one  tone 
above."  Above  the  final?  In  §  17,  after  explaining  that  mono- 
syllables and  Hebrew  words  sometimes  cause  a  change  in  the 
mediation  of  a  Psalm-tone,  the  author  enumerates  amongst  "such 
words  "  also  usquequo.  As  this  is  not  a  monosyllable,  it  is,  in  all 
probability,  a  Hebrew  word  !  The  expression  in  §  20,  ^' a,  proximate 
or  remote,  anterior  or  posterior  celebration,"  will  not  convey  to  the 
reader  the  idea  the  author  had  evidently  before  his  mind.  The 
explanation  of  the  distinction  between  feriae  majores  and  minor es 
will  surprise  liturgists.  At  page  34  we  read :  "  the  special  Alleluja 
is  repeated  in  the  neuma."  Probably  it  should  be  "with  the 
neu7na." 

In  the  appendix  we  have,  what  the  liturgical  books  call  the 
Communia  Vesper  alls,  the  Deus  in  adjtUorium,  the  Psalm- tones, 
the  tones  of  the  versicle,  &c.  Then  there  are  all  the  Vesper 
Psalms,  marked  according  to  Father  Mohr's  system.  According 
to  this  system,  as  probably  most  of  our  readers  know,  the 
numbers  1-8  are  placed  over  the  syllables  of  the  psalm  verses, 
indicating  on  which  particular  syllable  the  mediation  or  ending 
of  each  of  the  eight  Psalm-tones  is  to  begin.  This  will  prove 
useful  to  many  choirs. 

The  book  is  not  for  students  preparing  for  priesthood.  But 
or  choirs  and  schools  we  can  recommend  it. 

H.  B. 


Notices  of  Books.  1143 

The  Eoman  Missal  and  Supplement,  adapted  to  the 
USE  OF  the  Laity.     London :  E.  Washbourne. 

We  think  it  a  loss  that  our  people  are  not  m  ore  frequently 
and  earnestly  encouraged  to  use  the  Eoman  missal  at  Mass.  Such 
a  practice  would  have  the  effect  of  uniting  one  more  closely  with 
the  priest  at  the  altar,  and  with  the  Church  as  she  follows  her 
saints  from  day  to  day  with  special  feast  and  prayer.  This  loss 
is  the  greater  in  the  case  of  the  educated,  who  would  gradually 
learn  to  admire  the  spirit  of  wisdom  and  love  guiding  the  Church 
in  her  distribution  of  the  ecclesiastical  year,  and  who  would 
be  capable  of  appreciating  and  of  profiting  by  the  simple 
beauty  and  suggestiveness  of  her  prayers.  Is  it  not  a  pity 
that  our  intelligent,  well-educated  boys  are  not  made  familiar 
with  the  daily  ritual  of  the  Mass  in  so  easy  and  attractive  a 
way? 

At  all  events,  those  who  are  anxious  to  avail  themselves  of 
this  practice  can  have  no  difficulty  in  finding  a  complete  Eoman 
Missal  in  English  at  a  moderate  price,  and  in  a  most  convenient 
form.  Such  is  the  Eoman  Missal  just  published  by  Washbourne, 
London. 

Our  Lady's  Garden  of  Eoses.  Translated  from  the  German 
by  Eev.  F.  J.  Levaux,  S.J.     Dublin:  Duffy. 

The  translator,  Fr.  Levaux,  is  a  Belgian  Jesuit,  who  has 
been  staying  for  some  time  at  Miltown  Park,  Dublin.  He  writes 
in  his  preface :  "We  offer  Our  Lady's  Garden  of  Boses  to  the 
kind-hearted  friends  we  have  met  in  the  Emerald  Isle,  whose 
chivalrous  patriotism  and  deeply-rooted  faith  we  appreciate, 
though  we  can  never  sufficiently  praise.  May  our  little  offering 
betoken  the  warm  feelings  of  sympathy  and  afi'ection  which  the 
sight  of  that  Irish  patriotism  and  faith  arouses  in  the  heart  of  a 
Walloon  Catholic." 

Fr.  Levaux  could  make  no  more  acceptable  offering  to  the 
people  among  whom  he  is  sojourning ;  for  they  love,  above  all 
devotions,  their  Eosary.  And  Our  Lady's  Garden  of  Boses  is  a 
charming  little  book  on  the  Eosary. 

In  the  opening  chapters  we  have  a  history  of  the  origin  and 
progress  of  this  devotion,  of  the  testimonies  to  its  efficacy  as  a 
prayer  borne  by  the  words  and  practice  of  saints,  and  the  com- 
mendations and  favours  of  successive  Pontiffs,  and  by  the  unin- 
terrupted hoi    it  has  had  on  the  hearts  of  all  Catholic  countries. 


1144  Notices  oj  Books. 

The  second  part  of  the  little  book  instructs  us  how  easy  -  is 
to  meditate  on  the  mysteries  of  the  Eosary  ;  and  in  the  last  part 
we  have  an  explanation  of  the  indulgences  and  the  conditions  to 
be  observed  for  profiting  by  our  Eosary.  It  is  quite  a  charming 
little  book. 

Abridged  Bible  History.  The  Child's  Bible  History. 
Freiburg  and  St.  Louis  :  Herder. 
Messrs.  Hekder  have  published  in  English  a  little  Bible 
history  of  about  one  hundred  pages,  specially  suited  to  children. 
Indeed,  either  of  the  books  mentioned  above  is  a  model  child's 
book.  The  story  is  clearly  and  pithily  told  ;  the  type  is  bold  and 
good  ;  and,  instead  of  the  usual  daubs  to  be  found  in  children's 
school-books,  we  have  artistic  wood-cuts  that  will  interest  the 
little  reader,  and  help  to  cultivate  the  youthful  taste.  The  little 
books  have  the  approval  of  several  bishops. 

Catholic  Truth  Society's  Publications. 

Month  after  month  this  excellent  society  is  adding  to  the 
number  of  its  publications.  Among  those  recently  issued  are  the 
Life  of  Blessed  Juvenal  Ancina,  by  Fr.  Morris,  S.  J. ;  Life  of  Tita, 
a  Domestic  Servant,  by  Lady  Herbert ;  Little  Helpers  of  the  Holy 
Sotils ;  School  Savings  Banks,  by  Miss  Agnes  Lambert ;  Catholic 
Clubs,  by  J.  Britten ;  The  Drink  Traffic  ;  a  Poor  Man's  Notion 
of  the  Church  ;  The  Holy  Coat  of  Treves,  by  Canon  Moyers  (price 
one  penny  each)  ;  a  bound  volume  containing  a  Life  of  Arch- 
bishop Ullathorne,  and  eight  papers  on  practical  Catholic  topics  ; 
and  a  little  book  of  exceptional  interest,  being  some  of  the  cate- 
chetical instructions,  translated  into  English,  of  St.  Cyril  of 
Alexandria. 

If  it  be  a  good  work — and  who  can  doubt  it? — to  spread  among 
the  people  a  really  Catholic  literature,  excellent  in  matter  and 
form,  and  suitable  to  all  classes  in  its  variety —then  we  commend 
earnestly  to  our  readers  the  diffusion  of  the  Catholic  Truth 
Society's  publications. 


IRISF:  Ecclesiastical  Record, 

July-Dec.  1891. 
TrllRD  SERIES. 


v.l2^ 


BX  801  .168  1891  Pt . 2  SMC 
The  Irish  ecclesiastical 
record    47085658 


Does  Not  Circulate 


mm